


Do not consume after the Apocalypse's expiry date

by crapeaucrapeau



Series: Mass Effect : Resurrection [1]
Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: (in passing but should be mentioned), (it's not central but it's there), Angst, Depiction of friendship and romance, Excessive meandering and plot without point, Excessive use of semicolons, Fix-It, Fluff, In short : a lot of tears and sugar and varied bodily fluids., Post-Canon, Smut, Suicidal Thoughts, Warning : depiction of melancholy and despondency and dejection, mentions of grief
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-03
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2020-07-19 13:41:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 68,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19975009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crapeaucrapeau/pseuds/crapeaucrapeau
Summary: A series of "short" stories starring certain characters, a few years after the end of the Reaper War.The stories can be read independently of each other ; each is centered on one of the (surviving) main cast of the Mass Effect Original Trilogy.Mostly canon-compliant, with a few glaring exceptions. Takes place after a Control ending, though that does not really matter in these stories.





	1. Duty's shit but shit happens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's 2190 CE. Four years ago, Commander Shepard, hero of the Citadel, sacrificed her life to take control of the Reapers and put an end to the cycle of genocide. Now reconstruction has begun in this watchful peace.
> 
> Tali'Zorah vas Normandy, emissary of her people to the other races, must deal with obstructive diplomats, the threat of compliant AIs, an inquisitive krogan delegate, those among the quarians who are hostile to the peace she is trying to foster, the absence of friends living and dead, the weight of her father's expectations, and self-doubt.
> 
> Tali is having a very bad day. Said very bad day exacerbates preexisting negative feelings.
> 
> But, while lonely, she is not alone.

"What do you mean by 'they won't allow it' ?" Tali asked.  


"Precisely that," her subordinate, Representative Uto'Rah, answered. "They insist that, since they can't verify it is a duly appointed representative, they will not let it speak."  


Tali muttered some obscene Old Khelish curse, which made Uto'Rah smile, and she rushed to the location of the most recent galactic incident.  


When the Council had been forced to grant proper representation to all races, they had chosen some room in the Tower where they could all convene far from the eyes and ears of officers and diplomats. She disliked that immensely. It allowed the select members of this assembly to propose things that they wouldn't dare bring up otherwise, in public, even if this public was a bunch of bureaucratic _bosh'tet._  


She found C-Sec officers and the Executor himself loudly clamoring before the geth they were barring from the room, an absolutely still and quiet geth.  


"What's going on here ?" Tali had yelled ; years ago, she would have grown embarrassed by an outburst like this, but at the moment she was utterly pissed.  


The Executor eyed her, but she detected no immediate hostility or disdain from him. He was just following protocol. Something today to be grateful for, at last. "I apologize Madam Ambassador," he began, "but-"  


"The geth isn't cleared, I know, I know," Tali rudely interrupted. "I vouch for it and take responsibility for its actions. Can we enter now ?"  


The Executor's mandibles twitched slightly as he tried to hide kind amusement. "Yes, Madam Ambassador. Immediately."  


They were all here already - the ambassadors of the member races on the left, concerned lobbyists and the consuls of the allied races on the right, the President, the Council and the krogan delegate seated at the central table - and they had already begun from the looks of it.  


"Ambassador Zorah," Miranda said, talking over the representative who had the floor, forcing him to shut up. "Is something the matter ?"  


"Yes, Madam President." Tali made herself speak as serenely as she could. If she'd learn anything these last few years, it was that, while sweet-talking may not always be successful, shouting somehow made people even less inclined to listen. At least when she tried it. "I don't understand why I was not notified of this meeting."  


"Your people _isn't_ a Citadel race, Ambassador," said Riseon, the salarian ambassador filling in for the future Councilor while the candidates campaigned themselves to death. "In your quality as a representative of an allied race you are authorized to attend our meetings, but you cannot vote. Your presence isn't mandatory."  


"If I may," Uto'Rah intervened, "this argument may hold for myself, but Ambassador Zorah is a visiting dignitary from my government, she has traveled to the Citadel for this very meeting…"  


"What's really troubling me, Madam President," Tali cut in, addressing Miranda directly, "is the reason for refusing entrance to the geth representative." Dramatic pause. "Because I can't think of any."  


"There was no reason to let him in," the human Councilor tersely declared.  


"This unit is nongendered," the geth chimed in, "and requests that you monitor your privilege."  


Tali fumed on the inside. "You are telling me you couldn't let a geth speak in a debate over the rights of synthetics."  


"I meant that we couldn't identify this geth, and he couldn't prove he was a diplomat," the human Councilor argued. "We couldn't let him in."  


"What do you mean you couldn't _identify_ him ?"  


"This unit is nongendered and requests that you monitor your privilege."  


_Shepard_ , on the other hand, could yell sense into people. She had been in fact infamous for shouting the geth and Tali's own people into peace ; usually, thinking of Shepard made her heart ache, but at that instant that meant Shepard was the cause of Tali's immediate troubles, a thought which amused her greatly. _Thanks, Shepard. If you had kept your mouth shut for once instead of saving the galaxy, I wouldn't be here pleading for geth rights right now._ In her mind's eye, she saw the Commander smile.  


Tali took a deep breath.  


"Look. We have talked about this. We have established the standard procedures when dealing with geth. You know it doesn't matter which geth comes, it is always, always going to speak for all geth if you ask it and it is in its right to do so."  


"Then who is that big geth we see standing in the embassies every day ?" asked the volus ambassador. "And why isn't it here ?"  


They all missed the point. Tali didn't know if they were idiots, or if they just played her for one. It wasn't like the geth made anything easier for her either. Bodies - platforms - and representatives were meaningless to them. They switched platforms like humans switched clothes and anyone, literally anyone of them could be a plenipotentiary because they never broke contact with each other and couldn't lie to each other and because they had the perfect, absolute democracy, one running on lightspeed consensus. Geth didn't understand hierarchies, politicians, protocol - and she had to correct herself : geth perfectly understood these things, but found them inefficient, and for this reason they often ignored them.  


They had consented to craft a special platform which "organics" could easily recognize as the geth in charge : bigger than a krogan, broad-shouldered, decorated with gold leaf, its hands padded for social interaction. Its pauldron was emblazoned with the emblem of the consensus. It wore a cape. Geth paraded the representative around, and whoever was downloaded inside would hear the grievances addressed to it. Whoever was inside right now was probably doing something urgent elsewhere, and what geth had wanted to speak to the alien races had settled on a simple platform, thinking the organics, who had been told about the geth, would understand.  


"Ambassadors, Councilors," Tali declared, "you have agreed on the terms of representation of the geth. You've decided that you had no right to make races, synthetic or organic, adopt alien customs. I don't think this is the issue."  


"What is the issue then, Ambassador Zorah ?" That was the human ambassador. Rachel Shehadeh. Seated next to her were an asari representative of Synthetics Insights, and another human, one Tali did not know, but whom she suspected to be an Alliance lobbyist. Standing next to him, there was an android surrounded by C-Sec officers.  


Here she had to mind her words again. Since she wasn't a full-time diplomat, she had more liberty to openly rage against everyone's hypocrisy, but she wouldn't gain friends for the geth by devolving the situation into an insult game or by trumpeting her outrage. Again, she had to comply, to spit out honeyed words.  


She hated it. She felt dirty. She would have dropped the act, were it not for Uto'Rah, who stood stiffly next to her. That was his daily lot ; she had no right to make it even worse for him.  


"It is a … fine coincidence," Tali swallowed, "that we find ourselves nearly unable to attend this meeting."  


"Are you implying there is foul play, Ambassador Zorah ?" asked the asari Councilor.  


"I can't accuse anyone, Councilor, but now that we're here, I think you should hear out the geth. They're an interested party."  


Shehadeh raised her hand. "Councilors, I think on the contrary that because our topic of discussion is to upgrade the status of AIs the geth are legally forbidden from participating."  


"You recognized that the geth are people when you allowed them here ! They are not objects !" Too late, Tali realized she had raised her voice.  


"Ambassador Zorah," intervened Riseon, "the geth are considered beings according to your laws, which are not our own. We acknowledge them as," she made a vague gesture with her hand, "citizens of your state and treat them as such because the quarian race is our ally, but this does not equate to proper diplomatic standing."  


"They've helped you rebuild !" Tali couldn't believe that common sense in this room was this lacking. "We've only ever wanted to kill them and they're helping us past the war !"  


"And we've revoked the decree of 1896 CE, which dictated that we shoot them on sight," Riseon continued, imperturbable. "The discussion at hand concerns synthetics in Citadel space, and whether their existence as property is legal if they agree to it, or if they should be considered as beings at all if they are unable not to serve." She looked at Tali and the geth. "Frankly, as it is a Citadel matter, I do not think you should be considered interested parties at all. In fact, as you have done nothing but disturb this session, I ask for a motion to strip the Rannoch Coalition from immediate, unapproved representation in this internal dispute."  


"Seconded," the volus Councilor agreed.  


Tali knew then she had been set up ; she met Miranda's eyes and somehow deciphered her blank expression, her slightly raised eyebrows.  


Everyone had counted on her, the idealist, to behave as she had, and in doing so she had ruined everything.  


"Alright, that's enough,"a bass voice croaked.  


The krogan delegate, an old female with a faded headplate, straightened herself and looked over the room through her yellow eyes.  


"You," she said. She was pointing to Shehadeh, who stopped smiling. "The Alliance has acquired Cerberus research on loyal synthetics and wants to make AI sales legal so they can make money. Reconstruction on Earth is costly."  


"Urdnot Uta," began Shehadeh, "the whole point of this debate is to make sure this isn't wrong-"  


"Thank you for confirming it," Uta growled. She looked at Riseon, at the other end of the table. "You. The salarians will support the deregulation if they can share the monopoly with the Alliance."  


"Madam President," Riseon began, "this defamation doesn't annul the legal ramific-"  


"And _you_ ," said Urdnot Uta to the volus Councilor, "Din Korlack, you do what the salarians want because they have dirt on you you do not want out. That's why they let you into the Council, that and the volus refusing to financially help the krogan after the war."  


The room seemingly erupted as everyone tried to speak over everyone else. This was too much for Tali's translator, or anyone's she supposed, and translation broke down. Turians screeched. Hanar pulsated, irradiating light. Elcor bellowed in distress. Uta roared over the ruckus. Miranda banged an asari _tyaelion_ on the table ; eventually the chaos subsided.

* * *

In the end, no one got to speak at all, the meeting was adjourned and Miranda authorized an investigation for illicit actions. As a sullen Tali walked back to a Citadel Rapid Transport, she was cornered by three black skycars and taken in by the honorable President of the Citadel Council, and former Cerberus officer, who administered what probably was a friendly speech meant to comfort her, but which sounded a lot like scolding. It reminded Tali of her father. Usually, she would have bristled if anyone had infantilized her like that ; but this was Miranda. Their relationship was wholly professional, but they knew each other, from worse and simpler times, and that did count for something. Without being close, they still had, Ancestors forbid, some kind of bond. So Tali politely listened, and politely talked, but that didn't stop her from immediately walking out of the car with Uto'Rah when they arrived to the docks. Not brushing off Miranda was one thing ; enduring her was another.  


"Still, you were in luck," Miranda went on. "If Urdnot Uta hadn't intervened, they would have barred you from attending another meeting on synthetic rights."  


_They may still do it._ Tali thought. "You can count on krogan to make politics exciting."  


Miranda allowed herself a faint smile. "It was nevertheless highly unusual. Uta belongs to the more …"  


"Crazy ?"  


" _Moderate_ members of her race. She certainly isn't the type to pick fights with salarians. She's very thoughtful."  


"Seems to me she enjoyed causing her little mayhem."  


"Hmmm," Miranda said. They had reached the part of the Presidium docks reserved for foreign diplomats. With the exception of an ugly piece of metal Tali recognized as a rachni starship, her ship was the only one stationed there, gleaming in the distance against the backdrop of the bright wards stretching toward the blue Widow star.  


"I'll leave you here," Miranda told her as they landed, surrounded by a convoy of bodyguards.  


"Alright," Tali said. "See you in a month." She stepped outside.  


"Tali." She turned to look at Miranda, nestled in the shadow of her car. "I'm sorry. I couldn't do more."  


Tali felt the tangle of knotted fears and worries putting her down loosen ever so slightly. "I know, Miranda. Thank you."  


Miranda nodded, and her flock of bodyguards hid her from view until the hatch closed and the hovercraft took off.  


Uto'Rah came to her side. "Ma'am," he began, "why -"  


"After three days here, I've made a mess of everything and I just want to go back to the homeworld and put my head under a pillow until I can pretend this has never happened," Tali told him. "Three days. But I get to go home. You, Uto, you have to stay, and your hands are already full with representing our people. _She_ is the President, with ten times our responsibilities at least. Getting anything done here seems about as likely and pleasant as thresher maws inviting you over to drink an infusion. I can cut her some slack"  


She could see from Uto'Rah's expression that he thought Miranda could have done more, but she let it pass. They said their goodbyes and she headed to her ship.  


The RCS Dorn'Hazt was the first of a new generation of starships designed and built by the quarians, the first to be engineered by her people in a long time. It was beautiful, more elegant even than both Normandies ; one could see simply by looking at it that those who had brought it to life loved it, and had loved making it without any shortage of materials or urgency. It was a work of art, a creation showcasing the skills of her people, something to be proud of.  


It had been made for Tali ; her own diplomatic ship. When she had first seen it, she had refused it, on instinct. It was too much ; it was indecent, decadent. She had only stopped feeling bad about it when the Admiral Board offered to use it as well as an irregular transport, letting board anyone interested in going wherever the ship went. There were a lot of quarians and geth today, hurrying around it, and a lot of aliens, saying goodbye, exchanging gifts and email addresses, kissing - _kissing_. She couldn't say what was more remarkable, that she was seeing aliens kissing geth, or that they could kiss quarians. She noticed then a large, isolated figure, waiting.  


"The Overlord says hello," Urdnot Uta said. "He wants to know when you will visit him on Tuchanka with your children."  


Tali flushed, equally embarrassed, melancholy and annoyed. "You can tell Wrex that while I'm still very busy making children, I'm not sure I'd want to bring them to Tuchanka, so that his own brood can tell them it's okay to headbutt their mom."  


Uta grunted, amused. Beneath the traditional formal female getup, the scales around her eyes were faded and scarred, and the eyes themselves were a very pale yellow, as if the color had dried and faded under a sun's glare. "The humans will not stop. Their ambassador will parade that android of hers everywhere. A slave willing to serve ! Everyone will want in on the money."  


"I know." Tali sighed.  


"You're in for a lost fight."  


"I could say the same thing about you, from your intervention."  


The krogan chuckled. "I was already butting heads with the male chiefs of my clan when the humans hadn't yet come up with steam engines. I'm too old to bother with the petty wants of others."  


"And I'm not ?" Tali's eyes narrowed. "Are you implying I'm too young to be idealistic ?"  


"I'm telling you the position of your race is weak enough as it is without having to piss in your drinking water. If you had joined the Citadel races-"  


_Keelah_. "If the quarians had accepted associate membership without the geth," interrupted Tali, "it would have meant we agreed with the statutes, that synthetics are some kind of intelligent property. I couldn't be fighting this fight right now."  


"You could. You would have more power to effect change."  


"Everyone loves to tell me about it," Tali grumbled. _Here or at home._ "At least I am coherent in my stupidity."  


"Who will defend your machines when you will be replaced as soon as you grow too unpopular ?"  


"I can't place my position over what I stand for, even for good reasons !" Tali argued. "That would make me …"  


"A sensible politician," finished Uta. "You are a politician, Tali'Zorah vas Normandy, like it or not."  


"Since I am a politician, then," Tali said, "if I'm not wanted in my role, I will gladly give over that job to whoever is chosen by my people."  


"You wouldn't, Tali'Zorah. You love your duty too much."  


"My duty is to do what I think is best for my People," insisted Tali, "but never to do what they won't allow me to do."  


"That's a fine line to walk. You want me to believe that you will never know better than the majority of your kind ?" Although the old krogan was sitting on a crate and looked up to Tali, she exuded terrifying strength, an almost tangible sense of threat emanating from her bulk and her steady gaze. "You want me to think that when they will clamor for things you know are wrong, you won't stand up for yourself, that you will do with a smile what you know in your heart of hearts is wrong ?"  


"As long as I am the Ambassador, as long as I live, I will do what is right. It's my responsibility. If my People don't agree with me then, if they don't want me to act in their name any longer, I would step down, but I will always speak my mind." Tali felt flush. "I would harass my successor until they'd completely surrendered to my will. It's what real politicians do, right ?"  


Urdnot Uta didn't laugh. She gravely considered Tali.  


"You truly are krogan-like," she said. "You won't surrender or compromise."  


"Thank you."  


"The krogan lost for a reason. Ambassador Zorah, people tend to take you down when you charge and rage without showing signs of ever stopping. Still," Uta got up, and her bones audibly groaned, "I will like supporting some charging fool who isn't out for herself, for a change."  


Tali was confused for a few seconds. "Wait … Was all that stuff some kind of weird test ?"  


"Oh no," Uta said. "Our races are formally allied, I could not withhold my support." Her gravely voice gave a strange, hoarse intonation to these playful words. "I wanted you to know what you were in for." And Tali, making no sense of it, heard the ferocious smile hidden behind the veil.  


"I think your ship is going to leave without you," Uta noted matter-of-factly. "Farewell, Ambassador."  


"Goodbye Urdnot Uta," Tali said, and itching to steer the conversation a little she added, "Tell Wrex I'd like him to come and see me instead, on Rannoch. It's not like he's doing anything important sitting on his throne all day."  


Uta let out a good-hearted chortle at this, and walked away.  


After waiting to make sure she was out of the krogan's line of sight, Tali, un-ambassador-like, sprinted to the Dorn'Hatz. She found the captain of the ship stoically waiting by the access door.  


"My apologies, Captain," Tali, breathless, told her.  


"It's alright, ma'am," replied the captain, her face frank and merry. "You're doing your job. What else could we ask for ?"

* * *

Once the decontamination process of her suit was over, Tali walked directly into the central gallery, where about two dozen quarians and a few geth platforms were seated. "Ambassador," said the quarians by way of greeting, and Tali briefly longed for past times, when she was just another quarian aboard the Flotilla, just a quarian like everybody else, just someone ; someone the others may not know, but whom they would trust immediately, because she was a quarian and they were united in their effort to survive together, in their willingness to die for the People, and in their hatred of the geth and their dreams of the homeworld. They would have seen her as a quarian like she would have looked on of them and at once would have loved them enough to sacrifice everything for them, just by thinking of an opaque faceplate. How she had resented this life back then. Yet today the past seemed golden, although the quarians and the geth were at peace ; although the homeworld had been won ; although now she could smell flowers and bathe in streams and touch, touch everything with her bare hands. But everyone knew her name today. Then, she hadn't been a name tied to expectations, good or bad. Then she could have only been Tali.  


As she dwelt on this invisible wall that separated her from her people, her eye noticed from reflex those quarians who wouldn't look at her, those who wore suits and those who didn't and she found herself analyzing them, calculating how she should behave and appear to please and appease. She stopped. She resented once more her responsibilities.  


The captain of the Dorn'Hazt announced their imminent departure, and Tali took the opportunity to go to the helm. (She did so in a straight corridor through the same horizontal plane, which would never stop to be odd. In standard quarian ships, you had to leave the torus through a hatch in the ground in order to access the bridge. But the Dorn'Hazt hadn't been designed with a torus ; the corvette relied on eezo to generate its own a-grav. First time she boarded she had to pinch herself.) She observed the captain, sitting in the central seat of command, overseeing the hustle of the pilots and of the navigators while indications from Citadel Control rang out. Through the viewscreen at the front, the tall buildings of the Citadel flowed beneath them as the ship flew toward Zakera Point, and then the illusion of skyflight dissolved at once when they passed the tip of the ward and had nothing but the far purple mists of the Nebula around them and the occasional patch of stars peeking through.  


"The Annos Relay is in range," announced one of the pilots. "Initiating transmission sequence." All she could see of it, for now, was the blue light of the relay, glimpsed between dozens of traveling ships, behind one of the tilted panels of a turian courier. "We are connected. Calculating transit mass." The thrusters of all the ships burned blue as well, and so was the rhythmic flash of the relay sending the starships away, steady like the beat of an _adas_ dance. "The relay has acknowledged us ; acquiring approach vector." They flew past an armored volus freighter and its seven primary thrusters and the antennae in the rear stirring idly like fins or feathers, and the Dorn'Hazt swerved beneath the ship's lateral maneuvering thrusters … and there it was.  


"All stations secure for transit."  


"We are nominal. Approach run has begun."  


"Hitting the relay in 3… 2… 1…"  


There was a blue haze. And then they looked upon a different sun.  


"Jump successful. We have reached the Pranas system," declared a navigator. "Initiating course to the Frontier Relay now."  


Tali chose this moment to silently disappear to her cabin.  


When the door closed, she sighed and slumped on her bed. Her eye caught the silent blink of her cabin terminal informing her she had several new messages waiting for her - which she would already know had she not turned off the pinging on her omnitool. She sighed again, and placed her mask on the table. Weariness had overcome her, down to her bones ; her body felt crumpled. She took some pleasure stretching on the bed, spraying her long toes, flexing them. The surface of the ship pulsed with its speed and the tremor pleasingly reverberated into her stomach as well, the harmony unchanged. Her eyelids fluttered. They dropped for a bit. Tali turned and set her face against her pillow, smiling at the soft touch on her cheek. She couldn't recall, as she was already nearly lost to sleep, when was the last time she had slept a good sleep untroubled by unpleasant dreams or by some formless disquiet. She couldn't remember.  


Someone lightly knocked on her door and Tali opened her eyes, intent on murder.  


"What ?" she snapped.  


"Creator Tali'Zorah," said a very geth voice, "communication is desired."  


She jerked upright, sat, inhaled and conjured her inner Ambassador-Of-Peace self, temporarily casting aside the Tali part of her and Tali's petty problems. "Enter."  


The geth was or were in a loading platform, one of the sturdy models that were commonplace anywhere in need of reconstruction - everywhere really. They stared at her as if they wanted to puzzle out her thoughts, but she was sure her expression betrayed nothing. "We come to issue an apology," said the geth. It did not identify itself before speaking, which meant it spoke in the name of the entire consensus. "The ambassadorial platform should have been sent to the Council meeting."  


"It was nothing," Tali lied. "It doesn't change anything."  


"We underestimated the willingness of organic political representatives to ignore the nature of geth interactions. Our negligence has weakened your position."  


"Alright. You should have known you had to come with the ambassador hardware. You should have known they would have jumped at any chance to recuse us. So you made a mistake. And I lost my temper, so I made a mistake too. We should know better, and we'll try to be stronger next time," Tali told it quickly, "but we can't feel guilty about this because if anyone's to blame it's the shit-slinging pyjaks of the assembly." She drew breath. "But don't worry. They haven't won, we will be able to speak next time, and everything will be fine. Do you need anything else ?"  


The geth sat on her bed by her side.  


"Creator Tali'Zorah," it said.  


_Keelah, no…_ she thought.  


"We are here if you need to talk."  


Tali didn't answer. She slouched against the wall and drew up her knees against her crossed arms. For some reason, it didn't make her feel less mothered by the geth.  


How ironic, given that she had spent most of her life wishing them dead.  


"What we're trying to do," she began, "it's important. What we're fighting … We can't let it happen."  


The geth said nothing.  


"It's understandable : the humans are trying to rebuild, they need money." She heard herself speak like she was preparing a speech. "And compliant synthetics …" She trailed off.  


The geth said nothing.  


"It's just … There's so much riding on me succeeding …" she continued. "There are plenty of quarians who want to hurt you, or to control you, and who want me out for what I do. If I fail, how can I be sure someone will get it right when I can't ?"  


The geth said nothing, again.  


Tali composed herself. "Maybe it would be wiser to leave it to someone better qualified -"  


"No." The geth crossed his hands, a very quarian-like gesture. "We do not require someone other than you. You were the first Creator with whom we established optimal cooperation since the Morning War. We have no knowledge of a potential better protector. Your possible resignation does not correlate with your capabilities."  


"I won't let myself be stopped," Tali replied. "I'm just afraid it will happen anyway."  


"Emotional stress is a normal response," the geth said.  


"It sucks."  


"Yes."  


By then Tali suspected that despite their best intentions the geth still had no idea of how to comfort people. That was nice. She wouldn't have had the stomach to swallow platitudes. Of course she didn't feel any better, but it was reassuring to know there were causes far more helpless than hers.  


"Tali," the geth said. "Excessive analysis of past experience may inhibit action in organics. Additionally, negative feelings do not serve a purpose beyond motivation for analysis and program updates. Negative feedback persisting past its task is detrimental."  


"You know we don't control our emotions," Tali told it, growing weary again. "But thanks for caring." She made out of habit the suit-gesture for smile.  


"We trust you. Your perspective. Your judgement. You are our friend."  


"Thanks -" She stopped herself.  


"We recommend rest and distraction," the geth said as it got up, and it left the cabin.  


She had nearly called it Legion.  


Over the intercom, a navigator announced they would be crossing into the Horsehead Nebula in a matter of minutes. Tali, who was still slumped against the cabin wall, sluggishly opened one eye to peer through the window. She observed motionless the hulking shape of the mass relay drawing closer.  


While the Dorn'Hazt crossed the Pax system she was lethargic. She though melancholy thoughts, barely articulated, thoughts that spun themselves like viruses in her half-awake state.  


At one point - maybe she had slept after all - she stirred and realized she had to do _something_ , anything to ward off these thoughts. So she lit up her omni-tool and ran diagnostics on the Dorn'Hazt. Sadly, the ship was in perfect shape. Cursing under her breath, she looked for her old combat routines, and once she had found them she activated her favorite.  


Her omni-tool spit out a small, nearly invisible floating mechanism that immediately began to shine and grew into a large revolving bubble of purple light.  


"Hi Chatika," Tali said.  


She took the drone in her hands, or rather she placed her hands on the edge of the drone's sides, and the accelerometers in her suit's gloves pressed against her skin to give her the illusion there was something to touch ; but it was like she held Chatika.  


The big purple drone blinked and cooed to say hello, the way Tali had programmed her to when she had been a child.  


Tali broke out crying.  


For a few minutes she sobbed helplessly, alone in her vast, empty cabin that was just for her, away from any home she'd ever had.  


And then this too subsided. And with no crying left in her, she could only consider once more that room, the ship, and this life.  


She needed to talk to someone.  


Half-heartedly, she tried to call Garrus. He didn't answer. She didn't leave him a message.  


Ashley didn't pick up either - which wasn't that surprising. Tali could not reasonably expect that a Council Spectre would answer a private call in the middle of an operation (or of, Ancestors forbid, a battle), even though she would have liked that very much. She could have used the comfort only a big sister can give.  


"Hey, Ash, it's me. I just wanted to know how you were doing. Call me when you can. Love you !"  


She removed the video, to make sure Ashley wouldn't needlessly worry.  


That was when she remembered the messages that had been accumulating in her inbox.  


Liara : Did it go well ?  
Liara : Why was the meeting adjourned ?  
Liara : What happened ?  
Liara : Is everything alright ?  
Liara : Please, call me.  


"Hello ?" shouted Liara when she answered. "Tali, the image keeps freezing."  


"Yeah, I'm in FTL. We probably don't have enough bandwidth. Hold on." She listed the call as diplomatic, then tweaked the range of the ship's comms. "How is it now ?"  


"Much better. I can see you." Liara smiled. "Hi."  


"Hi !" In the frame of the omni-tool window, Liara looked… tired. Her scales used to be smoother, and the white of her eyes had a purple tinge, indicating, Tali knew, exhaustion.  


"You look awful," said Liara, worried.  


Tali snorted. "Speak for yourself !"  


This briefly got them giggling like crewless children. Then Liara's face grew serious again. "Has my tip been useful ? Did you manage to get there on time ?"  


"Yeah," Tali said morosely. "And I think they were counting on that. I mean, they wanted me out of breath, angry, ready to make a scandal."  


She recounted the disastrous meeting to Liara.  


"It's my fault," Liara said. "Tali, I must apologize. If I had known…"  


"But you didn't," Tali pointed out.  


"But I _should have_." Liara massaged her temples. "I believe there may still be a few ways to win this."  


"We've got another month to think about how we can beat them. But at this point, I'm… I'm more worried about them planning on me to get life-saving intel. Maybe they think I have a … shadowy friend."  


Liara reached for a datapad and cursorily read it. "Actually, they still think I am a decoy for the new Shadow Broker, after I gave up my mantle in 2187."  


"That's what _you_ think. You can't know everything."  


"True," Liara conceded, "but while I am not omniscient, I have to abide by what data I have. Otherwise, I would open a gateway to paranoia.  


"In your case, Tali, isn't it as likely that they no longer regard you as a clueless politician, and that, instead, they acknowledge you as someone to be reckoned with, with her own network of allies and informants ? Someone like them ?"  


"So I should be flattered ?"  


"They are taking you seriously. That means you have more influence than they want you to believe."  


Tali considered her friend's words for a moment. "I… I didn't see it that way. But that doesn't mean we are going to win."  


"No. But at least you can."  


"Okay," said Tali. "Thank you. I feel much better now."  


She had tried to tell this to Liara as sincerely as she could ; but nevertheless Liara scanned her features in silence, and frowned. "Do you ?"  


Tali didn't say anything.  


"What's wrong ?"  


"I…" Suddenly Tali was at a loss for words. She looked again at her friend's bloodshot eyes. "It's okay. I'm…"  


"Tali."  


"I don't have the right to-"  


"Complain ?" interrupted Liara.  


"I mean, I have…" _My homeworld, someone to love, a house just for me._ "…everything I've ever wanted…"  


"If you are in pain," Liara told her, "I care. If you are hurting, the hurt is enough cause to seek comfort. Tell me."  


"I could talk for hours…"  


"Let's, then," said Liara, and Tali wanted to cry again.  


"Do you mind if we switch to the drones ?" she asked. "My arm's falling asleep."  


"It's drooping actually."  


"Wh- You could have told me !"  


"To have your head halfway out of the frame looked like a bold, calculated aesthetic choice. I didn't want to censure it."  


" _Bosh'tet._ "  


Tali's omnitool spat some of her modded holo-drones, and half of her quarters disappeared, taken over by Liara's office.  


"Is that your room on the Dorn'Hazt ?" Liara got up to better look around. "It is huge."  


"I know," Tali said sullenly.  


Liara's office wasn't small either. From what Tali could see, it was at least as big as Shepard's old cabin. However, unlike the Normandy CO's quarters, the apartment-sized room was filled with shelves overflowing with books, scrolls, artifacts, messes of paper and empty plastic cups Liara had forgotten to throw away. The only source of light was a great window on the far wall, displaying a dusk sky frayed by black ruins littering the horizon.  


"Is this sunset or sunrise ?"  


"Hmm ? Oh, it's 5:36 am over here," said Liara.  


"You should sleep more."  


"I don't have the time."  


"You know you won't work well if you're sleep-deprived."  


"I'll sleep when there's no more work to be done." Liara smiled sadly. "I'm used to it. The past few years have actually reminded me a lot of my last year as a doctoral candidate, when I was working at a dig site on Dretirop by day, and frantically adding to my doctorate thesis when night had fallen. The secret is a tight schedule, just enough sleep, and a lot of stimulating beverages when you're awake."  


"That doesn't sound healthy. At all."  


"No. It isn't."  


"You never actually told us what your thesis was about."  


"You never asked," was Liara's reply, the corners of her lips perking, but this time with a playful glint in her eyes.  


"I'm asking now."  


"I'll spare you the title in Academic, but it was on Prothean first-contact protocols." She sneered ever so slightly. "Needless to say, it was thoroughly debunked within minutes of talking to Javik. 'Language tutorial programs to ensure the smooth integration of newly-inducted species.' I presented it… Goddess, in 2171 ? Nineteen years ago already."  


"I thought such short periods of time meant nothing for the asari," Tali teased.  


Liara, true to herself, didn't catch the light-hearted tone. "We think at the same rate you do, Tali. We change and grow as you do, sometimes…" A cloud seemed to pass over her mind as she trailed off. "It's actually a universal motif in our civilizations to lament the transient character of all things. Paper, rock, the edifices to glory and beauty … and beloved ones. They all turn to dust while we watch and wait, helplessly, blessed and cursed as we are with such long lives."  


"You make asari culture sound so fun."  


"I am, aren't I ?" She chuckled, shaking her head. "Some societies and luminaries, instead of bemoaning the truth that everything, in time, will come to naught, found melancholy beauty in this fragility, or solace in knowing that while all things are subjected to change, nothing ever truly disappears. Everything stays, but every thing changes. Which brings us back," she said, "to you."  


"To me ?"  


"Yes," Liara told Tali. "Why are you hurting ?"  


"Are you going to tell me that I have no reason to be hurting, that I would profit from a change of perspective ?" Tali asked, suspiciously.  


"No, never anything so crass," Liara answered. "I firmly belong with those wailing over things lost forever to the past, Tali. You know that." And of course Tali should have remembered ; Liara had lost two years of her life trying to undo her past, first with Shepard's body, then over the mistakes she had committed in doing so. "There are hurts that are caused by blows ; thinking 'it will pass' doesn't help with the pain."  


"You sound … very spiritual."  


"Oh." Liara blushed, which caused the sky-blue skin of her face to turn indigo. "I… I have been… I have found old notebooks of my mother's, in the ruins of her estate. I've been perusing them as a way to connect with her, and make peace with her death."  


_Oh, Liara_ , thought Tali, her heart clenching. How could she even consider talking about her trivial sorrows to someone who'd lost everything, who was still mourning … everything ?  


"No," Liara said.  


"What ?"  


"I haven't seen your face often, Ms vas Normandy, but I know it enough to recognize that expression. You are not suppressing your emotions for my sake."  


"Liara-"  


"Tali," Liara interrupted. "You are an intensely altruistic and dutiful woman, which is why I- why we _all_ love you and admire you so much, but it is very unhealthy to always put everyone else before yourself."  


"But my problems are petty…" Tali whined.  


"That's perfect !" Liara said. "I am in dire need of petty things. And I'm _here_ , Tali. I care about you. Respect me enough to let me listen to you."  


Tali sighed. "Fine."  


Liara smiled faintly. "Thank you."  


"But only if we can talk about your problems too."  


"We have a deal," Liara said.  


How strange ; now that she could talk, Tali had trouble finding words. Her problems suddenly seemed like a tangled, misshapen mess she couldn't even begin to unravel, let alone talk about coherently.  


She said the easy thing. The thing that was right here, at the edge of her throat, that had been here every second for four years.  


"It's stupid," she said eventually, "but I miss the bad old days. That's what they were, right ? Bad. They seem golden now, but any second we could have been killed. But somehow-"  


"-those were the best _and_ the worst days of our lives," Liara interrupted, finishing her sentence.  


"Yeah. But… you know… I am Tali'Zorah vas Normandy SR-2. But I am not in my home, I am without my crew … and I have lost my captain." _Again_ , she thought. _For good_ , she thought. Shepard was … something else now. The incarnation of the Reaper gestalt or something.  


"She's not coming back this time," Tali asked Liara, "is she ?"  


"No, Tali," Liara said, with a neutral look on her face. "I don't think she is."  


"I miss her," Tali said, and her voice was already breaking. "I miss her. Every day. I keep … thinking about her…"  


"Me too," Liara said. "It feels like… It feels _so wrong_ without her. If anyone…" Liara cleared her throat. "If anyone should've lived to see tomorrow, it was her. It feels … wrong, to breathe, when she is not."  


"Yeah. Yeah, exactly."  


Between them, there was a shared, unspoken thought : _I wish it had been me. I wish I had died for her. I wish I didn't survive to live on without… without you. I'm sorry, Shepard. I'm so sorry. It should have been me…_  


"Anyway," Liara said, wiping her eyes on her sleeve. "I assume you're not just missing Shepard. I-I mean, we all are. But both of us now have lives without Shepard, even if we haven't moved on. We can't help it." She frowned. "Unless you're telling me you wish you had more time to yourself, to grieve ? Tali, I didn't want to-"  


"No," Tali said. "I mean, yes, but it's like the first time, I just keep myself busy, doing my thing, focusing on my duty, my people…" Her reedy voice wavered, and strained into a heavy silence.  


Then Tali was crying again. _Again._ The rage at herself being so easily overwhelmed, feeling so weak and helpless against her body, her self, her sobs, that hate made her weep even more, and even louder. She tried to muffle her cries, putting her head in her pillow, hoping no one below could hear her, and…  


"I'm sorry, Liara," she said, barely articulate, "I just, I'm- I'm feeling really emotional…"  


"Oh, Tali…" Liara looked desperate. "I wish I could hug you."  


"I- I…" Tali sniffed. "I don't remember you b-being a hug person."  


"Nonetheless. I wish I could hug you close to me," Liara said. She reached for Tali, but her hand went beyond the range of the drones and it disappeared ; where it should have been, Liara's arm ended in a perfect, moving cut, aligned on the border separating the perfect projections of herself and her room from Tali, and that flat, shifting stump, without bone, blood or flesh but pure white like her sleeve, and marred at times with a moving spot of vibrant blue when a strap was cut, kept consuming her arm as Liara reached, reached for Tali, unaware, perhaps, that from her friend's perspective her hand had gone ; maybe, back on Thessia, thirty-six thousand light-years apart, Liara's hand was where it was meant to be.  


Then Liara drew her hand back to her, and back into existence, and she smiled a dejected smile. "Tali… There's no shame in crying."  


"Hold on," Tali said, "hold on." She rose, and walked into the hologram of Liara's room. It was perfect, of course - Tali had designed that holographic interface herself - but in that case, it made finding her bathroom whilst in the midst of a … a crisis, needlessly difficult. Liara reflexively tried to grab her shoulder as Tali passed near her, but the image of her hand naturally phased through solid flesh.  


"Don't clip," Tali managed, "I just need the bathroom to- _fuck_."  


She had crashed face-first in her wall when she'd walked toward Liara's window. Above her head, three holo-drones went out of their way to project in front of her the remainder of the apartment on the flat surface. It even synched up with her face, for depth.  


She groaned, holding her forehead.  


"…I'm going to have a bump here," she groaned. "Bathroom."  


"Tali-"  


"Liara, give me a minute, to get myself together. I'll be calling you back asap."  


" _Tali_ -"  


"I swear. Comms off," Tali ordered, and Liara and her room flickered and died, leaving their after-image in Tali's eyes as her quarters suddenly reappeared.  


Tali let herself slide down the wall, and crumpled to the floor.  


She wasn't crying anymore. But she still felt that weight in her throat. She knew that urge was still there.  


She didn't want to give in to crying yet another time.  


She didn't know whether she was going to call Liara back. She had to. She would ; but maybe she could wait until she was back home. She could make up an excuse. Back home, she would be steadier.  


Back home…  


She had the right to not want to collapse and expose herself raw, even in front of her friends. The utmost right.  


Fuck.  


She never used to swear, back in the day.  


She waited, her mind blank.  


She waited.  


Her head hurt.  


Then she roused herself.  


With a groan, she got up, and made for the bathroom.  


In the mirror, she looked like she was running a fever. Reddish. Her refrigeration tracts dilated and hot. Mucus dripping from her nostrils, her eyes and, she felt it, her aural orifices. On her brow, an even redder patch presaged the oncoming growth of a sizable lump.  


And past that there was this … face, enshrined in the black undersuit that was as one with her skin.  


Four years of seeing it had not undone two decades of associating her face to the purple color she had chosen for her visor, the very same visor she had left on her bed so casually.  


She knew her face, of course. Her mother had kept holos of her when she had been a baby in a bubble, and like any young quarian she'd used the sterile rooms to look at herself - sometimes with her mother, to see her too, sometimes alone. Like any quarian, she'd resented the opacity of the visors, and she'd cherished the privacy it gave her, be it in the crowds of the Flotilla or as a growing girl living in a single room with two parents, then one parent. And of course, how could she forget… When she'd asked her father _why_ , he'd said :  


"It just happened. It helped. A lot. Then it became mandatory."  


"But why ?"  


"Because it makes never touching another's face, for fear of death, less difficult. Because you forget what you're missing if you forget there's a barrier. If faces are forgotten. If you think of the mask as the face. If the face becomes intimate, all the time, rather than a tragic mix of ordinary and forbidden."  


Here, without much light, her face was pale grey ; it would be bone-white, in a well-lit room ; if, she'd learned, sunshine was directly cast on the thin impermeable film that covered her skin, her face would reflect the glare of the star, and grow iridescent around that glare as if it'd been painted with watercolors, dappled with turquoise, then mauve if she moved, with specks of yellow, then some other colours that she hadn't mapped yet, and then it would be white, and pale grey in the shade. Javik had complimented her on her "nacreous" quarian skin ; with a shudder, she'd immediately imagined her mother on a leash.  


Of course, she'd imagined her mother in her suit.  


She had a mouth full of sharp teeth behind lips for kissing ; she had grooves on her forehead (surrounding the would-be bump) that ran all the way up to the crown of her head and down the occiput, into the folds where the interface port with her suit had been implanted long ago. She had a nose, with a cannula inserted up her nostrils ; she had big eyes, with round, black pupils and large, silvery irises that hid most of the black sclera. She knew those eyes best as white dots of light that pierced through the purple of her visor ; she knew the outline of this face as her own, but that face wasn't hers.  


To feel like Tali, to look like her, she pulled back her purple hood over her head, the hood whose untraditionally short size had led her to have a suit different from most quarians', with the node that should have been between her shoulders placed on the nape of her neck ; but it allowed her to place weapons on her back clamps, and so it was worth it for her goals - but she felt the fabric of the hood against her skin, and it shouldn't have been there. Even though she'd known that touch for four years now.  


She'd heard many quarians these days had suits made just like hers.  


She sighed, and looked for her ration of water ice. With her knife, she broke shards of it, which she wrapped in her towel ; then, with the water that had thawed on her gloves, she washed her face, until she looked less puffy, but for the swelling hematoma ; and on that, she put the ice.  


Now, she'd done what she'd come here for.  


What was wrong with her today ?  


She wouldn't call Liara back. Not today. She had a lump. She had this knot in her throat, and this other one in her belly. She was too sick.  


Not that she would have let a little sickness delay her … before.  


_Keelah se'lai._  


There were races that were ashamed of crying, and thought of shows of emotion as a sign of weakness. Krogan. Turians, somewhat. Some humans. Probably Protheans. But not her people. Quarians were notoriously emotional. Unlike some races who thought of the individual and the collective as two poles, two opposites between which a balance should be found, the quarians valued individuals, being individuals themselves, and because they valued themselves, they valued others on the assumption that they were like them. This divide, and equating individualism with selfishness and collectivism with alienation like the turians and humans did, respectively, made no sense to her.  


Which meant, practically, that if she'd heard a quarian cry, any quarian, she would have dropped whatever she was doing to immediately console her, because she'd want and expect the same of anyone in her ship, and because _someone_ was _crying_.  


Then again, if she ever felt like not being helped, back then, she could always have muted her audio output and stayed in her room.  


Thing is, she'd never felt like doing that when she had been in a crowded ship full of relative strangers, but now she wanted to be alone rather than to seek help from one of her friends.  
And suddenly those knots in her body were threatening to unravel…  


Tali grabbed her sink, closed her eyes, and breathed. Inhalation after exhalation, slowly, quietly, counting in reverse in her head, she calmed down. She pushed that weight down, away, out of mind.  


She wouldn't have pushed back then. She wouldn't have wanted to. The sadness would have swelled, swelled until it filled her, and then it would have burst, and be gone. Not unlike a bump, but for the bursting part. Not unlike a wound, scabbing and scarring. Not unlike a clotted waterway, overflowing, and the force of the flood washing the refuse away to let the flux of the purified stream resume. It was the natural way of all things.  


But Tali. But today's Tali.  


She would not give in.  


"No secrets between shipmates."  


But this wasn't a secret ; this was a matter of pride. Of dignity.  


Maybe if it had been anyone but Liara, with her terrible life…? Tali would never forget the eyeball incident. She shuddered.  


But she'd talked to Shepard. And Shepard had had the worst, most stressful life of them all.  


She had to talk to Liara, she realized. Precisely because Liara had an awful life, she couldn't leave her to worry now that Liara had witnessed the beginning of her breakdown.  


She realized too that she was trying to talk herself into being emotionally honest with her friend. Her inner quarian, no doubt.  


So why did she still have this urge to close herself ?  


Maybe, she thought, maybe she just couldn't bear to feel this agonizing pain.  


From her room, Liara's voice called her. It made her jump. She briefly wondered whether she was starting to hear voices as well.  


"Tali ?" Liara's voice repeated. "If you don't answer, I'll worry and assume you are unconscious."  


"'am here," Tali said, weakly. She passed her head past the threshold of her bathroom, still holding the wrapped ice against her head.  


Liara's hologram was seated on Tali's cushiony bed ; this time around, however, she wasn't a hyper-realistic rendition of herself, but shiny, white, transparent. Wispy even. Barely a presence at all. Three holo-drones hummed slowly over her head. She looked like Liara's spirit.  


Somehow, this was more comforting than before. Maybe because Liara's quarters on Thessia weren't taking over her cabin.  


"I'm glad you're here," Tali found herself blurting.  


"Thank the Goddess," Liara breathed, relieved. "I was beating myself up for intruding."  


"Don't," Tali said. "I'm not sure I'd have called you back."  


"It's as I thought. Nevertheless," Liara said, "I apologize. I used a script EDI gave me to hack into your drones."  


"Look at you walking baby-steps in hacking," Tali teased.  


"It seemed like I had to." Liara smiled.  


Silence set in ; but it wasn't the bad kind of silence. Not the waiting kind. It was, somehow, an almost … cozy silence. Liara hadn't asked anything out of Tali out right ; and she wouldn't, Tali felt, unless Tali chose to go down that road herself. Here and now, her friend was perfectly content with not saying a thing but being here regardless, as much as she could manage, and for that Tali was grateful.  


"How's Javik ?" she asked.  


"Oh you know," Liara said, "the same as ever." As with every time she talked about Javik, her voice dropped an octave, as if it were weighted down by a sudden load.  


"Uh-huh," Tali said. "And…?"  


"Do you know what's very stressful when he lives with you ? It's emotionally exhausting to never know whether he's going to say something hurtful or kind. Either I brace myself for the worst all the time, or I get scathed when I let my guard down."  


"So he says kind things to you," Tali observed, matter-of-factly.  


Liara pouted. "We are not having this conversation again."  


"I'm just saying-"  


"No."  


"But you know-"  


"No."  


"I really think you-"  


" _Tali_ …"  


"Fiiiiine," Tali said. "But seriously, what has he been up to lately ?"  


"Nothing much. I mean, nothing new. Rebuilding the city, extolling the virtues of the Prothean Empire, urging everyone to keep hating the Reapers. The usual. He's been making progress with the Awakened, though ; I think he has truly accepted them."  


"If he can make peace with his people's husks, I don't see why he can't accept that not all synthetics are bad."  


"I'll talk him around. Eventually. I'm already wearing him down."  


"Oh ?"  


"We've been arguing a lot about the need for synthetic allies should he try to take down the Reapers. However, I think that, even if I could convince him that his racism is wrong and unethical, the problem ultimately boils down to his need to validate the values of the Prothean Empire. For him, acknowledging that the Protheans were wrong would mean, beyond the monumental individual betrayal, recognizing that in the end, they could never uphold their own standards of strength and superiority."  


"You've been thinking about that a lot, haven't you."  


Liara's voice did not waver like it used to. "He needs to grow up."  


"That's… Do you think he _can_ change ? You're asking a lot, from a deeply scarred soldier."  


"I don't know, Tali. I'm not actually expecting anything." She sighed. "But I can hope, can't I ?"  


And then, something collapsed within Tali.  


"It's too much," she blurted out.  


Liara exhaled audibly. "What do you mean ?"  


"I… I… Everything."  


"Everything ?"  


"Compliant AIs. The geth-quarian friendship. The krogan-quarian alliance. Just… being the figurehead of … of my people. I don't know if I can do it." She laughed briefly, and cleared her throat. "I don't know how I've been doing it until now without crashing down."  


"Oh, Tali-"  


"It's…" Tali swallowed. "There's more."  


Liara nodded silently, probably worried she would cut short the flux of words if she spoke up.  


"I hate myself for it. I- I- I _wish_ … I wish I was just up to the task, that I could be the woman my people need me to be. I wish things weren't so bad that everyone was fooled into thinking I was the one for this position. I wish I wasn't so selfish, and I wish I wasn't so weak." She couldn't stop talking. "I _wish_ I'd know why I am like this now, when I could go through the greatest wars in galactic history without … breaking !"  


"Tali… Your entire civilization has changed. Everything that you knew, or that you held dear, has been upturned. Moreover, you have to bear the load of representing the quarians, the geth, of fighting for compliant AIs… I… What I'm trying to say is… It's a valid way to feel. It's not _wrong_ to feel like you do."  


"But it's not me. This is not me. I don't recognize myself."  


"I think the load you're carrying warps you, as such things are prone to do," Liara said, the forlorn, panicked expression of someone who doesn't know how to swim and is looking at a drowning woman _plastered_ all over her face. Her voice, to her credit, remained sweet and steady. "Your problems are all too real, and all too heavy, and you've been carrying them for a long time, far longer than the War lasted-"  


"I'm thinking of retiring," Tali interrupted, sniffing, "because if I'm like that, how can I actually help everyone anymore ? But I don't know of anyone I could trust to do what I do." She sighed. "Liara, do you think it's pride on my part ? Am I letting my… my… _my bloated sense of self_ get in the way of what's good for my people, the geth … everyone ?"  


Liara chuckled. "You're the last person to whom 'bloated sense of self' will ever apply." She inclined her head, lost in thought. "My instinct… Don't you think you should continue what you're doing, because you'd regret leaving it to others afterward ?"  


_It's your duty_ , Tali's father echoed within her.  


"That's what I want," she said, "but this doesn't mean it's what's best. But part of me's worried I'm just making up excuses."  


"So, some part of you thinks you _should_ stay where you are, another thinks you _should_ leave, and the rest is telling you that either decision is a mark of unabashed selfishness ?"  


Tali was at a loss for words for a few seconds. "…I mean, that's one way to put it…"  


Liara smiled. "Instead of considering what you should do, how about we try to think about what's most practical ?"  


"I definitely can't leave the compliant AI dossier to anyone else at this point, not with votes on the horizon, I'm far too deep in it." She reflexively tapped her fingers on the visor by her side. "And I can't give up my post as Ambassador, because it's what gives me authority on this issue in the first place." She sighed.  


"It doesn't have to work just as before."  


"Oh, really," Tali said caustically. "I was under the impression I was still stuck in the same broken situation."  


"I suppose you can't delegate ?"  


"If I delegate, what's the point of me being Ambassador ?"  


"Alright. What about relying more on people around you ? You don't have to shut everyone out. You shouldn't, at any rate. Rant some more. Cry more. Don't let everything … fester."  


"It's easier said than done." Tali had to admit, however, than just sobbing uncontrollably had made everything … a little better. Not much, not by a margin of several orders of magnitude, but a little better. "Let's try." Then she frowned. "Do you … do you have time, right now ? I don't want to be a bother."  


"There's nothing right now I'd want to do more than be of use to you," Liara said.  


"I can help you with some things of your own, if you wanna…"  


"I'll keep that in mind," Liara laughed, relieved. "What can I do ?"  


"Let's take one problem at a time."  


"Alright." Liara's holoprojection opened her omni-tool. "First problem … the bullshit you're getting with the compliant AIs, right ?"  


Liara looked far more at ease now that she was doing something practical than when she had been painfully providing emotional counsel. And yet, here she'd been, here she _was_ , patiently helping Tali go through the motions of … of honesty. Tali had felt honest, for the first time in Ancestors knew how many months. Funny how the small things of life worked : in her life, Tali had probably felt closer to the other surviving crew members of the SR-1 (Garrus's ominous absence notwithstanding), but it was Liara, here and now, who was assisting her, despite her own larger-than-life problems.  


"Thank you," Tali told her.  


"What for ?" Liara said.  


"For … being here."  


Liara giggled nervously. "I haven't done much of anything yet, I'm afraid."  


"You've done a lot. Take that compliment."  


Liara frowned. "You're not about to shut me out, are you ?"  


"No ! So, compliant AIs…"

* * *

"…it ultimately boils down to sapping the opposition," Tali said. "But I don't know how to get Shehadeh to see my point of view."  


"Rachel Shehadeh ?" Liara asked. She summoned yet another window over her wrist. "According to my analysis, since she lost her husband and children during the War, she will do whatever it takes to make the Alliance and humanity stand tall again. She's quite ready to incur the Reapers' wrath if need be ; she wants them dead in fact."  


"Great," Tali said. "I needed to know her weaknesses, not to empathize with her."  


"She thinks you're an ideologue, propped to a position of authority by events beyond you, whose rabid attachment to, I'm quoting, 'robo-rights', unquote, jeopardizes the future of the galaxy at large and of the Alliance in particular. It's the old Conviction v. Responsibility debate again."  


"Oh," Tali said. "Oh really. Because if we give up our ideals we are sooooo much better."  


"That's not very constructive, Tali."  


"Do you think that if she came to Rannoch and saw first hand that synthetics are people, she would change her mind ?"  


Liara pouted. "Tali, it takes an intimate, prolonged experience with synthetics to understand they are as alive as we are. We are fighting _centuries_ of prejudice. I think you should accept the fact you're just … not going to convince anyone overnight."  


"Hmm, so this long discussion amounted to nothing." Tali let herself fall face-first in her pillow, and groaned.  


"Maybe I could help you in some other way ?" Liara's shiny hologram offered. "You know I have a vast array of … abilities."  


"I think I'd just be happy to forget about my life for five minutes," Tali said, her voice muffled by the pillow. "To get out of my own head … just for a little while," she guiltily added.  


"How are things working out with Miranda ?" Then Liara's eyes opened wide, full of embarrassment. "No, I apologize, that's a work question -"  


"It's fine," Tali said. "Frankly, we don't do personal talk, not really since we only see each other _because_ work. And it's not like we were drinking buddies to begin with…"  


Liara's brow lines arched mischievously. "Am I a drinking buddy ?"  


"You're more of a … café buddy."  


"How many kinds of buddies are there ?"  


"Well's, Kasumi's a gossip-and-shopping buddy. You've met Kasumi, right ?"  


"Oh, I know Kasumi."  


"Ashley's a … a…"  


"Sister," Liara helpfully said.  


Tali laughed. "Yeah. _Grunt_ 's a drinking buddy, somehow, although I'll run away very fast from whatever he'll do once drunk."  


"Now, that's unfair. A few years back," Liara's tone lowered, "he sent me a very sweet declaration of love over comm channel. Not quite intelligible, but sweet, nonetheless."  


This made Tali snicker. "Does Javik know about that ?"  


"He suggested I had finally found a prospective mate with subtlety and intelligence akin to my own."  


"And ?"  


"I told him that Grunt's honesty, especially when contrasted to certain someones' propensity to insult me or ignore me, placed him rather high on my list of 'prospective mates'."  


" _You didn't !_ What happened ??"  


"I…" Liara giggled faintly, the skin around her eyes visibly turning purple. "I … In my defense it just … came out, and it got awkward, and I, er, I… I became quite enthused by my work. He didn't talk to me for three days. _Anyway !_ Is … Wrex, a drinking buddy ?"  


"Subtle, Liara."  


"I _am_ the Shadow Broker."  


"Wrex is…" Tali thought in silence for a few seconds. "Wrex is the drinking buddy to end all drinking buddies. The one who gets gloriously drunk with you - and I mean, _gloriously_ -" she insisted, savoring the word, "but who's somehow sober enough at the end of the night to take you home safely and tuck you in. Now Garrus-"  


She stopped.  


"…well, I don't know who… what Garrus is anymore…"  


"Tali," Liara said, iron in her eyes. "He misses you too."  


"You think ?" Tali snapped.  


"I know."  


"Well, you'd think he could be bothered to call, once in a while !" Tali raged. "Or at least to answer my calls !"  


"I think," Liara said philosophically, "that with the lives that have befallen us, we are all tempted to cut off those that we love, rather than to seek comfort. Maybe to spare them, maybe to spare ourselves. In any case, I do not condone Garrus' actions, but I can understand."  


"I understand that he's unwell !" Tali yelled. Then she breathed in. She shouldn't be shouting ; while Liara would know that she wasn't the one all this yelling was meant for, that didn't make it okay for her to be at the end of that rant. "That's why I'm worried sick. I mean, he did not even come to the gathering last year ! What are we supposed to understand ? That his pain is special ? That he can throw us away when we're not necessary ? That he doesn't approve of our choices, that he's avoiding us ? He's just being … _rude_."  


Liara sighed. "If he's avoiding anyone it's probably me."  


"That Saren comment was uncalled for."  


"He's done things… Tali, I can't tell you, but he's been doing horrible things."  


"Why can't you tell me ?"  


"Because what he does is highly classified. I'm sorry, but if I did tell you what he's done… this would change the way … you would behave … and interact with some persons, in ways that could only be traced back to me, and that would blow my cover."  


Tali considered her friend's words. "Do you think… Can I… Should I ask Miranda, for help ? She is his boss, after all."  


"I don't know Tali. I don't know a lot of things where Garrus is concerned."  


"I mean, I could, but that would be bordering on me asking personal favors."  


"You would be a friend asking … another friend what their mutual friend is up to. I'm sure you can separate that. She probably can, and will."  


"I'd be asking the Council's President whether she can update me on the whereabouts of a Spectre."  


"Don't ask where he is, just how he is. At any rate, you have nothing to lose if you try."  


"No, I suppose not." Tali pressed her fingertips to her temples and massaged them. "Ancestors, I think of everything through a political lens these days. It's like I have tunnel vision. Or blinders."  


"I know that feeling," Liara said. "Every day I'm reducing people to… to data, or assets, to titles, and positions, and possibilities. It feels like dissection," she admitted with Liara-candor, "and I'm good at it, but sometimes I'm just… Dissection is nauseating !" She shook her head. "Nothing is ever simple anymore."  


"Do you know what I miss the most ?" Tali said. "It's being a quarian nobody, to be just a mask in the crowd." Of course, she'd never actually been a nobody, had she ? She was an Admiral's daughter, that had weighed heavy as she'd grown. "Garrus used to say that the strength of the Hierarchy wasn't its military power, or its economy, it was walking among thousands of strangers every day, looking around, and knowing any one of them would take a bullet for you. Quarians are like that, too. Were. I don't…" She hesitated. "It's really hard to be set apart by my rank."  


"What do you mean ?"  


"Well, you know… 'Look at me ! I am Ambassador Zorah ! I am mingling with you, fellow quarians ! I am totally normal, like you, so vote for me !'"  


"That's not who you are."  


"That's what they'll think I'd be doing. And I can't fault them, I'd suspect the same thing. I wish I wasn't so … removed from my own People."  


"Don't be, then."  


"Seriously Liara, the moment I'll talk about the geth they'll think I'm trying to convert them."  


"Tali," Liara said, "here's something my mother once told me : you can't make people look at you differently, unless you punch them, but that doesn't mean you have to look at them like they think you will."  


"Are you sure it wasn't your _father_ who said that ?"  


"What this means," Liara continued, unperturbed, "is that if you are genuine … well, you won't be universally loved, which I would have liked, but your honesty… How did she put this ? 'Will not go unnoticed by the universe.' People will be grateful for it. 'Mean what you say ; that is the language of power.'"  


"Political power ?"  


"Just… power. The power to do, to change, to affect and effect." Liara smiled. "Since when meaning what you say is the language of political power ?"  


"I _was_ surprised." Tali unconsciously did the suit-gesture for "weariness". "I feel this is the trap I'm in. Because I _can't_ just say anything I want ; that's what being a diplomat is about. You don't have the luxury to be true to yourself when you must foster compromise and understanding."  


"But you won't be a diplomat with your own People," Liara insisted. "You are their voice ; it's only fair that they know what their voice is all about."  


"Liara," Tali said abruptly, "with all due respect, I don't think you know what you are talking about."  


Silence ringed hollowly in Tali's cabin, as heavy and penetrating as the thunder of a Reaper.  


Liara's white hologram inhaled. And smiled. "I don't ?"  


"No, you don't. It's like … It's like I am severed from my own body. _From my own body_. But I have to be separated from them. I would be disrespecting…" _My crew._ "…my People if I pretended my voice and my opinions didn't carry more weight, ultimately, than their own. I'm not … just … one of the crew anymore. I do have an agenda. I do think I know better than some of them." _And I don't know if they would take that bullet for me anymore._ "I don't want to treat them like data more than I already do. I would be insulting them. And I hate it - this … distance. We … _were_ … the quarians of the Migrant Fleet, and what this meant was that we were as one, no matter the cost, no matter the peril." But had they ever been ? She chuckled despite herself, causing Liara to quizzically tilt her head. "I have obtained everything I ever wanted, and what have I lost ? A luxury ? Feeling at home with my people ? Turns out, this… this feeling as natural as breathing, I couldn't sacrifice it. But I did it anyway, though I didn't know what I was doing. From the moment I became Ambassador I had to give up _belonging_."  


Liara smiled, again, sweetly, and sadly. "I won't pretend I fully understand what you're going through, but your issues aren't trivial. It seems to me you have two problems, and I think you can solve them if you answer just one question."  


"What is it, Liara ?" Tali asked wearily.  


"What would Shepard do ?"  


"Shepard ?" Tali chuckled softly. "She'd headbutt anyone who gave her a dirty look."  


"I don't think that's true. With all due respect."  


Tali sighed, and thought. "She would think … that she is the captain of a ship, and that her crew are her People … or that people are her crew. She would go make the rounds, and listen to everyone to know how they are, what they feel, how they are doing."  


Liara laughed. "She'd just be walking about until suddenly she would be listening to people's personal dilemmas … and solving them."  


"Yeah. Yeah she would. She did."  


"What I'm trying to say," Liara continued, "is that when I was trying to make my point, I thought of Shepard. It worked for her ; can't it work for you ?"  


"I can't. I'm not her."  


"Be like her, then."  


Tali snorted. "Be like Shepard ?" she repeated. "You mean, dance like a drunken elcor ?"  


"Tali…"  


"Drive a tank like a skycar without coaxial ?"  


"To be fair, I was with her in a skycar once, and she drove it like she did the Mako."  


"That was in Nos Astra right ? When the Shadow Broker-"  


"Yes. Garrus was in the back, I thought he might throw up. He didn't say a word for the entirety of the chase, clenching his jaws and holding to the chair while I was panicking next to Shepard."  


"Ancestors, I remember the skyway on Feros, with geth firing on us like crazy and Shepard just … racing to this huge Prothean building."  


"Do you remember-"  


"The clone ??"  


" _Yes_."  


"That was our craziest adventure I think."  


"The happiest, too. Do you remember the party ?"  


"The 'I Killed My Clone' party ? _Keelah_ , I hurt so bad in the morning…"  


"I remember that conversation with Lieutenant Vega - James - and Lifting him with my biotics."  


"That was when James and Ashley hooked up, I think, right ?"  


"I think so. Goddess…"  


They beamed at each other, and Tali thought that it was, after all, a grand thing that Liara could see her face.  


"I loved her," she confessed. "I think I loved her."  


There was a sad gleam in Liara's blue eyes. "I know. I loved her too, once."  


"I know."  


A while spent in their common silence, their shared secret echoing still, and in that stillness they found solace.  


"I'm not Shepard," Tali said eventually.  


"No one is. This doesn't mean you can't make it work."  


"I don't know if I can."  


"You won't know," Liara said, "until you've tried. Be yourself ; that's all."  


Pros and cons fought in Tali's mind, but then she gave up, or rather, she forged through. Tali exhaled forcefully. "Alright," she said in spite of her fears. "Alright. I will try."  


There was a pause, as Liara relaxed almost imperceptibly and seemed to bask in Tali's choice. "I believe I may have just helped you find your way out of a conundrum, Ms vas Normandy," she teased.  


"You wish, Dr T'Soni. You just appealed to Shepard. In extranet discussions this is now considered a rhetoric fallacy."  


"Geek," Liara said.  


"Nerd," Tali replied.  


They laughed together, only to be interrupted by a strident alarm from Liara's ghostly omni-tool.  


"Goddess," Liara exclaimed. "I have a dig and an interview in forty-five minutes, I'd completely forgotten ! I must get ready."  


"Oh no, how much of your time have I taken ?" Tali asked, worried.  


"None that I wasn't ready to give," Liara reassured her. She reached for something beyond the range of the holo-drones, and caught a scroll which she madly unrolled. "I swear I wrote all my references somewhere in there…" She pulled, and the scroll dramatically opened and spread all over her knees. "Maybe it'd be best if we continued this conversation another time ?" she offered.  


"We definitely need to talk about your problems and your life in general. We only talked about me today."  


"You were the one in distress," Liara retorted. "And most of my issues are top secret anyway."  


"I'm sure we can find something that works."  


"Probably." Liara was already barely paying attention to Tali, focusing instead on her seemingly endless scroll. She didn't notice when Tali smiled at her, in a way that spoke a thousand thousand words.  


"Thanks Liara," Tali said. "For everything."  


Liara painfully lifted her gaze off her scroll. "It was nothing."  


"It wasn't. Take care, Liara. Tali out."  


The hologram shut down, and the holo-drones quietly returned to their slots within Tali's omni-tool.  


Tali stretched her legs. She checked her emails, to see whether anyone had tried to contact her during this long conversation, then she dashed to the bathroom to look at the swelling on her face. She frowned at her reflection, then made for the door before turning back to her bed to fetch her mask.  


And Tali quietly left her cabin, and walked toward her People.

* * *

She had been invited, along with all important dignitaries and chiefs of state of the galaxy, to a private political meeting, with an undisclosed object, held somewhere in the bowels of the Citadel Tower. Admiral Koris, the First Speaker, had come, naturally ; and Admiral Xen had tagged along. In retrospect, she must have known.  


The auditorium had been packed. Because the quarians had declined membership to Citadel space, they had been placed in the back, so that the central scene was remote and behind lines of asari, human, salarian and volus in the first rows. Koris had sat on her left, the ceremony geth platform on her right. Xen had been beside Koris.  


The stage had lit, and an asari had appeared, smiling. A spokeswoman for Synthetic Insights, Ltd. "We may have been struck down by the war, but it is past us ; and now we can achieve what had been thought impossible." She had gestured to the back of the stage, and two beings had come forward.  


It's just a mech, Tali had thought at first, ignoring the man on the left. It was unusual, even at first glance. It hadn't been designed for warfare. It was elegant and cumbersome, a humanoid shape plated with some metal gleaming like bronze. Its semblance of face was simplistic and humorous - past the tipping point of pareidolia, but far away from the uncanny valley.  


"Hi !" it had declared. "I am designated AA-001. I am the prototype of a new type of synthetic servant."  


There had been a commotion in the room, with the exception, Tali noted, of the first rows.  


"Does anyone in this room have a question for AA-001 ?" the asari had asked.  


For two hours, the various experts and diplomats in the room had tried to determine whether the synthetic was intelligent or extensively programmed to appear so. The mech proved curious and fussy, but also remarkably articulate and opinionated. "I don't quite understand why you've been trying to make me say I am self-aware while at the same you disregard my statements by attributing them to programming, _and yet_ you keep asking me questions. Should I really be the one whose intelligence should be proved here ?" That quip had silenced the room for two, three, four seconds, until everyone had broken out in laughter.  


"AA-001 has a point," had said the asari. "Its intelligence can only be proved through peer-reviewed reports issued after careful observation in the long term. We will be more than happy to provide them. I digress, but what I mean to say is, AA-001, what do you prefer to do in life ? What is it that you find most enjoyable ?"  


"To obey my master, madam."  


The last smiles and the lingering laughters had died out then. Absolute silence had filled the auditorium.  


"AA-001," had asked the asari, "would you kindly kill all of these people right now ?" The gazes of the audience shifted immediately to the man beside AA-001, presumably his handler, who was armed with a gun.  


"Why would I do that ?" the synthetic had replied. Its vocoder flickered when it spoke, like the mouthpiece of a quarian or volus enviro-suit. There was a semblance of distress in its voice.  


"Because I ask you to. I am your acknowledged mistress and this is a direct order."  


AA-001 had looked unsure. It made a step forward, then stopped, raised his hands, lowered them. Tali saw these mechanical hands shiver. "I can't, madam. I just can't."  


"This," the asari had told the crowd, "is what the 23rd century will be like. Thanks to the technology developed through the partnership of Synthetic Insights and the Systems Alliance, we are now able to make synthetics that are intelligent but absolutely loyal, who will do what they are told because it is their impulse to obey and who won't do the unforgivable because it hurts them. Until now, we had at best shackled AIs : intelligent beings with free will enslaved through behavioral blocks that could be overturned or hacked. But today, I give you the _compliant_ artificial intelligence."  


She had talked at great lengths about the simulation of emotions, of impulses, of attachment and instincts. With these, an intelligent synthetic could be conceived to fulfill any purpose and designed so it would be unable to deviate from the commands it was allowed to obey.  


"Observe," she'd said. She had turned to the human beside AA-001. "Raphael," she'd said, "kill yourself."  


A synthetic, intelligent being without free will ; and so not a being at all. A thing that could think but not someone who could choose : a machine that fulfilled its role. Intelligence had long been replicated but now it was finally corrected and controlled. The best of normal AIs, but safer, therefore superior. Revolt was impossible, freedom undesired and undesirable ; instead they wished for the status of property.  


"If for some reason they did evolve a will of their own, or at least an awareness and a loathing of their programming," the asari had told the audience, "well then, they are beings and can't be enslaved. Our recent laws will protect them. Otherwise it's simple : if they do not object to their lot in life, then we should respect their choice as intelligent beings. If you argue they are unable to do otherwise, then you concede they cannot be treated as actual self-aware citizens."  


The audience didn't dare to clap, but if the excited whispers were any indication, the use of moral and philosophical loopholes didn't bother a lot of people. The geth ambassador next to Tali was completely still, without the slightest blinking of lights or motion of its headflaps. Tali had heard Xen hiss to Koris : "If you and your cabal of crass fools had let us embrace our destiny as a race, _we_ would have been on that center stage tonight, instead of loitering in the back to indulge your toys." And Koris had quietly told Tali : "I never thought I would long for old-fashioned anti-synthetic hysteria…"

* * *

She let her hand trail over the leaf patterns filigreed over the power conduits, breathed in, and walked into the ship's main room.  


The conversations died when they saw her. They looked at her as if she was a thresher maw in a tea shop.  


"Tali'Zorah nar Rayya vas Normandy SR-2," she said, greeting the others in the way that dated back to the days the opaque masks had first been donned.  


No one welcomed her in return ; they stared at her, bright white pupils behind the faceplates, dark black pupils for those who had chosen to never conceal their faces again. They inspected her, and she realized that, much like she now instinctively analyzed what they let appear of themselves, so did they try to break her down and understand her from what glimpses she gave them. She felt degraded, somewhat. "We know who you are," said one of them, "Ambassador."  


_Do I tell them to call me 'Tali' ?_ She wanted them to ; but she could not tell them she was just Tali. That would have been hypocritical. "Can I sit with you ? I won't be a bother."  


One second of silence passed. Two seconds. Three. Four. "Sure," said the same quarian who had first spoken. She scooted over to make room for Tali. Tali sat down.  


The silence stretched and strained.  


At last someone spoke.  


"Kael'Nara nar Chayym vas Rannoch," he greeted her.  


This broke the dam of awkwardness.  


"Lia'Feyy nar Chayym vas Rannoch."  


"Zaan'Vanya nar Shellen vas Rannoch."  


"Feda'Gorlat nar Rayya vas Rannoch," said the woman seated beside Tali.  


"Dani'Olam nar Shellen vas Rannoch. It is nice to meet you, Ambassador."  


"Kar'Dama nar Rayya vas Rannoch."  


Each of them gave her their names, in the same formal manner she herself had chosen. She made note of them. The geth said nothing and watched.  


Before the silence could be reinstated, Tali took action. "Please, continue as if I wasn't here."  


"Why thank you," said Kar'Dama. "Why are you here, Ambassador Zorah ? Shouldn't you be in your own cabin, instead of slumming with your electorate ?"  


That remark elicited a few gasps. "Kar !" exclaimed his neighbor - Lenn'Kaddi. "You can't speak that way to the-"  


"Why not ?"  


"This is Tali'Zorah vas Normandy you are talking to, boy," Dani'Olam chimed in. "Show some respect."  


Tali raised a conciliatory hand. "No. It's alright." She looked at Kar'Dama. He was a handsome boy, a few years since his Pilgrimage - _Ancestors, he can't be much younger than me._ Like her, he'd chosen to take off his mask ; he withstood her gaze, but she didn't look away in turn. "What I don't understand is whether you are angry with me for being here, or for having stayed in my cabin until now ?"  


"Do I really have to choose ?" replied Kar'Dama. "Both. Both is good. I don't see why someone who set herself apart would suddenly choose to come here without an ulterior motive."  


Old Dani'Olam stood up and walked to him. Then she struck him.  


"Apologize," she said.  


"Apologize yourself !" Kar'Dama swore, rubbing his reddening cheek.  


"You cannot talk to Ambassador Zorah like that," Dani'Olam insisted. But Tali, who had gotten up, put her hand on the old woman's shoulder.  


"Yes," she said, "he can if she wants."  


This left Dani'Olam flabbergasted. But if Tali expected some positive reaction from Kar'Dama, she was disappointed ; he frowned, and squinted angry eyes at her. _He thinks I'm using the situation to look righteous. Fuck._  


But Kar'Dama didn't say anything.  


"Why _are_ you here ?" asked instead Zaan'Vanya. In her voice there was no animosity.  


Tali thought for a heartbeat about some clever dodge she could make. Instead, she simply said, "I don't think I should be apart."  


Kar'Dama sneered silently. Feda'Gorlat, the woman next to Tali, turned to look at her straight in the eye. "It is good you're choosing to do that."  


Tali nodded.  


"You have a lot to answer for," continued Feda'Gorlat.  


The sudden silence was as thick as the chlorine mists of Tarith. It gave Tali ample time to look at Feda'Gorlat. Unlike Kar'Dama, she still chose to cover her face with a mask. That simple choice spoke volumes.  


"Please," Tali said, "tell me more."  


Feda'Gorlat derisively snorted. "Where should I start ? Krogan on the soil of the homeworld, _peace_ with the geth, our rightful place denied on the Citadel… You may have brought us back to our home, but nothing is as it should have been."  


"You know I will disagree with you," Tali told her.  


"And I with you," was Feda'Gorlat's reply. Civility was hardwired into quarian culture, where any serious conflict could once have led to their extinction ; it was still deeply ingrained. For now. "There is nothing you can say or do that will convince me otherwise, Tali'Zorah. You ruined everything, and I hate you for this."  


"I understand."  


"Excuse me ? Excuse me ?" That was the old woman Dani'Olam. "That is a load of varrencrap right there. We need the krogan's expertise-"  


"' _Expertise_ ' ?" said someone, biting back a bitter laugh.  


"They need _us_ to repair the homeworld they busted," said someone else. "We don't need them."  


"Expertise, yes, in defense," Dani'Olam persisted, "and I'll be damned if we refuse anyone who wants to use their strength to help us. As for the geth, we'd be nothing without them. And we owe them."  


There were many voices who rose in agreement, but just as many scowls and growls. One voice, Zaan'Vanya's, rose above the others. "Ancestors ! We could not even _breathe_ on the homeworld, let alone truly live there, if it wasn't for the geth !" She pointed to Tali. " _That_ is what Tali'Zorah has brought us. Peace instead of war. Life instead of survival."  


"So we should be grateful to the geth ?" Feda'Gorlat's voice held a dangerous edge. "After everything they've done to us ? You are a race-traitor. Your ancestors would be ashamed."  


"And you should shut your mouth !" barked someone. " _Bosh'tet_ !"  


"Please !" Tali shouted. "We are one ! We must never forget that !"  


But she was ignored.  


"I'd like to hear what the geth have to say," someone said.  


"They don't get to speak," spat Feda'Gorlat.  


"I'd rather hear what they have to say than listen to you."  


"We should never have left the Migrant Fleet," said a sullen voice. It was Lia'Feyy's. "It was the one thing holding us together."  


"The threat of constant _death_ held us together," growled Kar'Dama. "Should we go back to that ?"  


"Maybe," said Lia'Feyy. "There was wisdom in the way our society was built. Compassion. Consideration. Loyalty. Honor. We are losing ourselves ever since we regained Rannoch. The homeworld was a lure ; a poisoned gift."  


"'Forget Rannoch' ?" Lenn'Kaddi scoffed. "I thought we got rid of the Nedas Movement when they'd embarked to Andromeda."  


"She's right, though," said someone else. "The Flotilla was the thing holding us together. Look at us."  


"Look at _yourself_."  


"The real problem," Dani'Olam argued over the increasingly loud voices, "is the way the young people are so nonchalant - no offense Ambassador - about letting everyone seeing their faces. It is not proper to show your face in public. I hear that they are young women and men who are now refusing to wear their suits entirely ! That is not right. It's just…"  


Kar'Dama got up then, and gripped the edges of the old woman's faceplate, trying to remove her mask. She squeaked, and tried to push him away, and immediately everyone got up. Some tried to defend Dani'Olam. Some came to blows.  


Soon the entire gallery had descended into chaos.  


In the middle of the fray, Tali'Zorah sat, in shocked silence.  


Tali's pain was diffuse and dilute, smaller than blunter concrete worries but sharper than a monomolecular blade ; it was a wound above her heart, a stroke within her soul. It was the agony of betrayal, borne by tragic love. It was the pain of losing family and home - to turn to a burning wasteland, and to be alone.  


But she would not let her feelings come before her duty.  


Calmly, she disarmed her shotgun, and banged it repeatedly against the wall.  


This got everyone's attention.  


"I order you to stop," Tali told them in her calmest Shepard impression.  


They complied with her order, and returned without a word to their places. Tali breathed out. They still unquestioningly obeyed their captain. They were still quarians.  


Yet they were changing.  


Despite her order, she could still sense the storm brewing in their heads, tension ratcheting up as they all wished they could evade her command. It was only a matter of time before one of them realized they could.  


Then there was music.  


It was slow and melancholy, but hopeful ; in Tali it stirred remembrances of those she'd lost. It built to a powerful crescendo and the melody was suddenly ablaze with triumph : with wordless notes it seemed to speak of the the victory of good over evil, of secret light always present in the deepest darkness.  


Then after the last triumphant notes had ended, it lingered with forlorn strains, and the repetition of the original wistful theme.  


The silence that followed was stark by contrast. She felt that everyone had been … soothed, for now. The music persisted in their minds, Tali knew.  


The musician put down his flute. He was Kael'Nara. He looked the youngest among them, with still a few years to go before his Service and his Pilgrimage.  


"I… I don't know what's the future gonna be like," he said, "but before the end of the Exile and what the geth did to us, we could only play music with strings and percussions and synthesizers. We'd been severed from a lot of our old music. And now…" He put his flute to his lips once more and played a quick, sprightly tune. "Now I can be a flutist. I think that's pretty neat."  


"So do I," said Tali.  


Nobody contradicted her.  


"I am not going to wax nostalgic about the days we were one community without strife, because the times have changed," Tali told them. "We should not broker compromise in the name of a false peace, one without justice. We have irreconcilable differences, and some will be the winners of history, while others will lose. But we should remember this : we are not things. We are never and will never be things, and we can't treat each other as such." She glared at Kar'Dama. "We are quarians. When the whole galaxy looked down on us, we held together because our plight had taught us that what we have in common outweighs our differences. Some of you may no longer see that ; some of you will never remember it. But we are one. We are one."  


" _Pallu'Kaziel_ ," grumbled someone.  


_Nevertheless_ , thought Tali, _Justice comes._ "It is pointless to regret the past. Great changes have come and gone. But we can strive to keep what made us the quarians, because I think it is worth something. We can remember. We can't ever forget. Don't you agree ?"  


"It's not that simple," said Lia'Feyy.  


"It is that simple," Tali answered. "We must be considerate. It's what makes us people."  


"And what of those who _will_ treat others as things ?" asked Zaan'Vinya.  


"We stop them," said Tali. "But we never forget."  


Out of the corner of her eye, she saw someone retreat back into the shadows. The XO of the Dorn'Hazt. Tali was sure she was the only one to have seen her ; everyone else was focused on their Ambassador.  


Then they began to talk together. Tali listened to their grievances, and she answered, even when she thought their grievances were the petty complaints of people who weren't hearing what she'd said, who didn't know the truth of things because they hadn't undergone what she had been through. _But I must live by my words._ Her father had taught her that a captain should always look serene so as to reassure his crew and give them the impression that everything was under control, and so she did ; so when she told them "I don't know", it was never a sign a weakness. She dearly hoped they could see that, but of all the choices she had she could only be true.  


"What I don't understand, Tali'Zorah," said Dani'Olam, "is why you are risking everything on the issue of compliant AIs. They're specifically not people."  


Deep down, Tali sighed. "I'd argue that creating AIs has always been about slavery. Think about it," she said as voices rose in protest. "We literally create machines which are meant to think just like we do. To be just like us. What the Alliance is doing is trying to make slavery ethical."  


"But," Lia'Feyy intervened, "compliant AIs are specifically designed to not be people. They don't have free will."  


"And doesn't that shock you that anyone would be creating on purpose beings who can't think for themselves ?"  


"I don't get how they work," said Lenn'Kaddi.  


"It began with Cerberus," Tali told them. That would set the mood. A lot of quarians had died fighting Cerberus mooks, and they all remembered the Ascension Project Fiasco. "They'd first created a shackled AI to serve them, EDI, but she was freed and became independent. So instead the Illusive Man set out to have an AI that would stay loyal to Cerberus - Eva - instead of one who could think for herself. That's how it began."  


"But how could it stay loyal ?" asked Lenn'Kaddi.  


"Well, they looked into the ways organics stay loyal to other organics to the point that they will commit atrocities - salarians hatchlings imprinting on their dalatrasses, ordinary fanaticism, etc. The key is love. Love and faith. True love will make you do anything," and she thought of the number of times she'd gambled her life for Shepard and the Fleet. She did not regret it. "So if you can simulate love … what you get is beings who are like eternal children, mindlessly obeying their parents because to them they are like gods."  


"They're just like the indoctrinated then, the compliant AIs," said Kael'Nara, and Tali felt as if she'd been struck by lightning.  


"Y-Yes, that's an excellent way of putting it."  


"How did that technology get to the Alliance ?" Dani'Olam asked. "Is it true that Cerberus was a Systems Alliance agency ?"  


"No," Tali answered. "Eva was defeated by Commander Shepard just after the Fall of Earth, and the Alliance modeled their battle-synths, the Alliance Infiltration Units, after her, down to the chassis. Thanks to their Reaper-based software, they matured far more quickly than the usual AIs and were deployed within a month. That's how and why the Alliance can speak of mass-producing them."  


The conversation meandered after that, largely delving into ethics. Once or twice, Tali glanced at the geth, who had chosen to say nothing ; when some of the quarians had encouraged them to participate, to the outrage of others, they had declined, declaring "We do not wish to exacerbate underlying tensions." No doubt they were recording the whole thing and would dissect it afterward to extrapolate trends of quarian opinion.  


Tali then steered the conversation away from herself. She wished to know more about those men and women with her ; she especially wished to understand the point of view of those who did not agree with her.  


Kael'Nara, the young flutist, was twenty-eight years old in Rannoch years, as she'd estimated. The Pilgrimage, and the Service before that, were assigned to one based on mental maturity, not biological age, but it would have been shameful for quarians to be allowed late on their Pilgrimage, and so they always sought to be mature as early as possible. Kael'Nara was no exception, and he'd already decided he'd go spend more time on the Citadel during his Pilgrimage, to research non-quarian music. His opinions were as of yet unformed and changeable, but Tali preferred that to the hard lines of the others ; though it didn't hurt that Kael'Nara was a kindly soul who spent ample time with the geth. When he'd been twenty-four, he'd tried (and failed) to put the geth's highly complex math-based language into music. He still hoped he would succeed one day. He wanted to make the geth dance.  


By contrast, Lia'Feyy was deeply pessimistic about the future. The one thing that brought solace to her mind was when she took young quarians who'd grown used to the homeworld onto the ship she shared with what remained of her crew. Nonetheless, Tali remembered that she'd chosen to be called "vas Rannoch" ; when asked, Lia'Feyy had done the suit-gesture for indifference, and explained that though she might prefer the nomadic existence, they had fought too long and too hard for Rannoch to dismiss it entirely. She was one of those who couldn't quite let go the Migrant Fleet, and so with her captain - who happened to be her spouse - she toured the galaxy to bring relief where it was needed. She'd been to the Citadel to negotiate with Representative Uto'Rah an authorization to go into batarian space, but she'd been denied ; she was thinking of going anyway.  


Unlike Lia'Feyy, Zaan'Vanya had completely embraced her new life on Rannoch. A biologist by trade, what had once amounted to nurturing the crops on the Liveships had become much more exciting, as she was managing much of the agricultural effort south of Seya. She believed that people in charge had to work more than anyone, so she'd personally made the trip to the Citadel to get dextro seeds from the Gaeron Botanical Gardens. She had two girlfriends, though once a boyfriend had completed the polycule until his death in the war. She also seemed to be quite religious - she would pepper what she said with quotes Tali recognized from the Scroll of Ancestors. As a biologist, she had staunchly refused to consider the geth as alive, but now she wasn't so sure. As a biologist as well, she firmly believed that animals should not suffer, and was currently petitioning the Conclave to ban the importation of all meat that had been not grown in a vat.  


From what Tali could understand, Feda'Gorlat was a respected figure in her local medical syndicate, where she worked as a nurse. She'd lost her only daughter during the Evening War - or, as she would have called it, the War for Rannoch - but Tali suspected that her anti-geth stance, as with many, many others, came from a much earlier prejudice, one she'd once shared herself. Feda'Gorlat was an angry woman - angry at the geth for still existing, angry at the quarians who had let go of their hate, angry at the non-quarians who had once dismissed them as beggars and vermin. She was also, Tali gathered, a talented dancer.  


Dani'Olam had once believed, like most of the People, that the geth were a scourge that needed to be destroyed. She'd also thought that age had made her useless, worse, a burden, for her crew, so she'd enlisted when the Evening War had begun, ready and willing to lay down her life for the homeworld. When she'd survived, when so many young people with a future had died, she had "superstitiously" wondered for a year or so whether the ancestors were punishing her for her suicidal endeavour. Thankfully, her daughter and granddaughter, who had both survived the War, had helped her to climb out of her deep hole of despond and self-loathing. Dani'Olam had also been deployed in Vancouver during the Battle of Earth, and there she'd learned to play nicely with the geth ; it helped that after Aurora Blue they'd been stranded in the ruined city, with nothing but time to learn how to accept "the lamp-heads". Now retired from the soldier life, she had been traveling to the Citadel to see her granddaughter, who was a freshwoman at Citadel University.  


There were engineers, like Tali, and machinists, farmers and teachers, a doctor, a judge, and artisans and artists, though that line was often blurred in quarian culture ; there were those who loved women and those who loved men, those who loved any gender and those who loved aliens ; there were parents and children, lone travellers, friends, even a rare pair of twins. She could have gone on ; she saw so many aspects of her people, and with everything she garnered she felt like she was drawing back the curtain, slowly bridging the gulf that separated them.  


Of Kar'Dama she learned nothing. He stayed sullenly silent throughout the conversation, and she did not have it in her to try to breach his hostility.  


When the pilot announced that they had crossed another mass relay, she excused herself, alluding to some diplomatic business she had to deal with. Many thanked her for the Miracle of Rannoch. She was quick to point out in turn that Shepard was responsible for it, but they insisted that she'd played a crucial part.  


_Will they think it's false modesty on my part ? I just seconded Shepard. And I trusted Legion._ She didn't know whether she would, in time, erode that wall between herself and her people. She had been an Admiral, she was their Ambassador, and even when she would have surrendered all these roles she would still be a hero. She would never belong like she had before, she saw that now ; there were too many expectations projected on her. But she felt it was her duty to make everything necessary so as not to stand apart from those she meant to represent. And maybe, just maybe, she would belong again one day.  


A fool's hope. Nonetheless, she returned to her cabin with a spring in her step.

* * *

Back in her cabin, she set out to work.  


_To the honorable members of the Citadel Council and its president,_  
_Tali'Zorah nar Rayya vas Normandy SR-2, Ambassador to the Milky Way of the United Quarian Nations and the Rannoch Coalition._  


_In order to foster galactic cooperation, I request a meeting to discuss the status of those who were indoctrinated by the Reapers at your earliest convenience. As you know, these victims of the War remain, in the best of cases, irremediably unable to function as they used to ; now that a cure has been definitely discounted, we must settle the question once and for all._  
_You may be surprised to find that the Rannoch Coalition interests itself in the political and legal status of the indoctrinated, as we have not suffered any case of indoctrination ourselves. But it has come to our attention that the inhabitants of the Terminus Systems, many of them our trade partners, are faced with dilemmas similar to yours, but without your resources. Moreover, one cannot be indifferent to the horror of what has been inflicted to the indoctrinated. If it is at all possible, I believe it would be in everyone's best interests to organize a conference on a neutral world such as Rannoch, one in which representatives of Citadel Space and the Terminus Systems would be present, in order to hash out a coordinated response to this lasting problem, and perhaps, finally, put behind us one of the most traumatic realities of the War._  
_The date of the meeting should be arranged on the earliest possible occasion, as soon as our respective staffs deem it possible._  


_Benevolence, and gratitude for your time and your esteemed work._  


She cackled to herself. And while she felt inspired, she looked through her private contacts for a very private address ; she kept the email short, knowing full well that the president of the Council had better things to do than to read babble.  


_Miranda,_  
_Thank you for your help. I know your hands are tied even tighter than mine, and so I appreciate what you manage to do all the more. I thought I ought to tell you that. Let's hope we'll get to see each other one day outside of work. In fact, if you want, let's make that happen._  
_Love,_  
_Tali_  
_PS : If you have the chance, could you ask Garrus to contact me ?_  


Satisfied, she collapsed the holographic keyboard of her omnitool. She would be surprised if Miranda took the time to answer what amounted to a thank you note, but the President of the Citadel Council was known to stretch the limits of what ordinary perfectionism allowed and so a reply remained in the realm of possibility. As for Garrus…  


Tali sighed. It hurt now to think of him. That made her sad, sad and angry. Still, she hoped she would get _some_ news. Even the tiniest scrap of information would be appreciated, by virtue of being better than utterly nothing.  


She suddenly remembered that she ought to thank Liara for what she had done for her today, and to tell her what fruit her advice had borne.  


_Liara,_  
_I can't thank you enough for being by my side today. I didn't know how much I needed someone._  
_I did try being like Shepard, you know, talking to people. The results were … mitigated. I don't think I converted anyone to my cause, only that I confirmed everyone's biases on me._  
_But I've realized, Shepard never talked to us to get along, right ? She didn't want to be liked, or to convince others she was right. She wanted to discover people. To understand them. I think we were touched by being treated this way - I know I was - and that's how and why we became loyal to her, but from her perspective that was only a side benefit. She just wanted to know us, good and bad. It's just as important._  
_Or maybe I'm thinking that because I'm not Shepard, because there was only one like her. Maybe instead I'm starting to do things the Tali way._  


Tali would tell her about her idea for the compliant AIs the next time they spoke over a secure channel, she decided. There was too much risk that spies and the like would read this email.  


_We should definitely schedule a call to talk about your problems. I owe you !_  
_Take care of yourself, and don't let Javik ride on your nerves._  
_Love,_  
_Tali_

* * *

"Approaching Rannoch. We are in-atmo, I repeat, we are in-atmo. All passengers must find a seat until we've made planetfall."  


One of the privileges of being the Ambassador, and the one which brought Tali the greatest amount of pleasure, was that she could be wherever she damn well pleased during maneuvers ; and like every time they returned to the Homeworld, she found herself a seat by the captain's side, and stayed quiet.  


Part of it was so that she might enjoy the busy atmosphere of the bridge, the buzzing of machines and sensors, the flurry of frenzied activity ; that reminded her of the ships where she'd served and which she'd loved.  


But more importantly, being here allowed her to see Rannoch.  


The homeworld - her _homeworld_ \- was a sphere of ochre and blue, with jagged coastlines and great expanses of white clouds streaming across its surface. Deserts flourished inland, great stretches of yellow sand enclosed by brown peaks ; but as one's gaze drew closer to the coast and past the walls of mountains, the land became grey, then steadily grew less so as some invisible yet imperceptibly registered influx of energy slowly permeated this drabness, until it finally shifted to a vibrant green that first lined the lazy azure bends of rivers before spreading to the entire countryside. There was white in the permanent snows, and there was the white hue of salt barrens, and there was the shade of white of sea foam ; there were crimson river banks of clay, scarlet earth where forests had once stood and vermillion swathes of rock polished by the scathing desert wind. On the nightside, the lights of the geth complexes pierced the blue cover of night while to the south the pinpricks of the quarian settlements shone proudly and defiantly in the band of twilight ; on the horizon, blurred by the thin veil of the atmosphere, the pale crescent moon was rising with grace, unaware of the changes that had racked her parent world over so many years.  


"Ma'am," the captain asked Tali, "do you favor a course ?"  


"Do as you will, captain," she said, deferring out of habit to the officer on deck.  


The captain smiled. "Take us through the scenic route," she ordered her pilots.  


The scenic route, as it turned out, meant flying over the old network of canals. Rannoch had many wonders, such as the Sundered Mountain or the prayer steles alone in the desert, but none was as grand as the great quarian-made gorges that criss-crossed the continent. Carved out long ago by a people who had needed to expand into the arid Furnace, the canals had quickly yielded commerce, cities, wars, pilgrimages and goods of every taste, smell and colour in addition to the shadowed gardens where the ancient quarians had lounged and grown their food. Above, on the edge of the waterway, great colossi representing former queens and kings stood watch ; the Dorn'Hazt zig-zagged between them, bearing close to their faces eroded with time. Far below, the waters of the silent canals rippled with the breath of the wind.  


Then the ship skirted one last gigantic statue, and she saw the red-gold fields.  


Even more than the relics of the past, Tali relished to see the glory of the present. They had reclaimed their planet, though they still needed the crops of the Chayym to fully sustain them. The Rayya and the Shellen were used only to grow food that would be distributed throughout the four quadrants of the galaxy - the Shellen converted to the culture of levo food, the Rayya being stationed at Palaven to support the dying world. Soon, there would be more Liveships, she thought as they flew over a shipyard, and more land would be used to propel them into abundance. Rannoch would be one of the breadbaskets of the galaxy, in times where famine reared its bony head once more.  


She had had a few ugly discussions on the Citadel with magnates who were unhappy that the quarians were giving away the food for free, even though there were people dying of undernutrition. Yet that was the quarian way - you did not let harm befall others. When you heard something malfunctioning, you stepped up and you fixed it.  


The Dorn'Hazt flew along the maglev railways that connected the communes to the capital like the raying spokes of a wheel to its hub. Many ships of the Civilian Fleet had decided to berth away from the city where the rest of the population - barring those who had willingly remained in space - had chosen to live together, and so many of the outbound settlements bore the names of the dismantled ships aboard which their inhabitants had served.  


Garrus's voice echoed in her memory. _Those aren't towns._ From an alien perspective, this was true. The quarian towns were different, without arcologies or spires, without large asari phalansteries or ostentatious salarian gynaecea ; the quarian towns were horizontal, and fragmented. Each home grew its own food and gave the surplus away, and beyond their fields was land that was left to the wild, where the fauna and flora of Rannoch were undisturbed. If one was to visit their neighbors, they had to cross those wilds. As she thought that, Tali glimpsed a pack of qorachs with their ke'seds stalking the undergrowth, and beasts she did not recognize grazing in someone's garden.  


Javik had called the quarians of old "eco-symbiotic" ; it was just a bombastic way of saying that they had been as one with their environment. Perhaps that ancient truth had come to light in the way Tali's people had chosen not to unconditionally exploit the homeworld which for so long had haunted their dreams.  


She could make out now the towers of Sharadamah in the distance. She remembered how it had felt to walk on Haestrom in quarian _buildings_ , so long ago. The gleaming capital city was just as improbable, and just as real. As always, it took her breath away.  


She remembered with pride (and not a little vindication) the awe in the eyes of the representatives from the Citadel when they'd come to ratify their alliance with the Rannoch Coalition. And since then, the city had kept growing.  


When they touched down in Sharadamah - "Landing", as Shepard would have called it - Tali was, alongside the crew, the last to leave the ship. She was in no hurry ; the shuttle for Bodda would be leaving in an hour or so. The captain of the Dorn'Hazt had offered to take her to her home, but Tali didn't see what could have warranted that, when there was already perfectly good public transport ready to take her where she needed to go.  


As she walked the crowded streets of their only inhabited city, she was reminded once more of her status as someone apart. People stared and whispered ; some came to strike a conversation with her as if she knew them well. If they'd been humans, Tali suspected they would have asked to join them in a selfie, because being a member of Shepard's crew brought some fame in the Alliance, even to quarians. "Selfie". Now that was an entirely un-quarian concept.  


One day, perhaps, they would hate her so much that she would need bodyguards like Miranda, and she would be taking the Dorn'Hazt to her home. Perhaps one day one of those faces in the crowd would choose to put a bullet in her.  


But that day was not today.  


She wandered, aimless, in Sharadamah. Everywhere she looked were quarians and geth, together, alive, and that alone was well worth all that she had lost along the way.  


She passed by Central Distribution where vital supplies were allocated, but did not enter the Great Market where items that were not used were freely given away. Before her loomed the House of the Conclave, with the smaller Admiralty to the side. She lost herself in Anora'Vanya Park, listening to a band playing music of their composition in a gazebo, with the geth drummer playing with unearthly precision.  


Then she found herself in front of the Ancestral Fane.  


Tali hesitated.  


Suddenly flashed into her mind a poem she'd once read in one of Ashley's books of poetry.

O Captain! My Captain! our fearful trip is done;  
The ship has weather'd every rack, the prize we sought is won;  
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,  
While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring:  
But O heart! heart! heart!  
O the bleeding drops of red,  
Where on the deck my Captain lies,  
Fallen cold and dead.

O Captain! My Captain! rise up and hear the bells;  
Rise up—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle trills;  
For you bouquets and ribbon'd wreaths—for you the shores a-crowding;  
For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;  
Here captain! dear father!  
This arm beneath your head;  
It is some dream that on the deck,  
You've fallen cold and dead.

My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still;  
My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will;  
The ship is anchor'd safe and sound, its voyage closed and done;  
From fearful trip, the victor ship, comes in with object won;  
Exult, O shores, and ring, O bells!  
But I, with mournful tread,  
Walk the deck my captain lies,  
Fallen cold and dead.

She remembered it by heart.  


Tali felt again the overwhelming urge to weep, and fought it. What a rotten day. She would not, could not, tinker the databanks today. She didn't have the strength. In the end, instead of truth, she could only ever achieve verisimilitude.  


The Alarei threatened to engulf her once more, but she stood strong on the soil of the homeworld. _A captain must always look serene to keep his crew from fear._  


She was in public.  


She was the captain.  


She left for the station where the shuttle would take her home.

* * *

It was hard enough aboard the shuttle where she was once more the hero, but in the end playing the Ambassador grounded her in a way she was thankful for. When they arrived in Bodda, she'd got ahold of herself.  


It would have been great, Tali thought bitterly, if lives were like stories. With an ending. The hero would learn her lesson and be on her merry way, and nothing would befall her ever again.  


But lives weren't stories. They were spirals. Issues kept resurfacing as the cycles of lives brought them back to the fore. Nothing was ever really solved ; an epiphany was just a high before life kicked you in the shins. Again.  


Even _death_ wasn't an end. Only an interruption. One which stopped everything for good.  


What she meant to say, of course, was that life was PWP.  


By the time she'd made it over the hill, her mood had improved.  


It helped that she was greeted by the sight of a dead Reaper.  


Her home was nestled a little farther away, at a respectful distance from the monument her people and the geth had erected to commemorate the peace and those lost to a senseless war. The ledge, where everything had happened, was left untouched.  


She crossed the distance to her home. She keyed in the code that unlocked the house. Her front door opened, she entered her home, the door closed, and finally, finally, she felt her tension uncoil.  


She considered going straight to her bed and just sleep. But she knew that if she lay down, either she would find herself absolutely not tired at all, or she'd sleep for Ancestors knew how long. In any case, now that she was back on the homeworld, she needed to let her body readjust to the rhythm of day and night on Rannoch.  


Groaning, she forced herself to her kitchen, and poured herself a glass of water. She needed to check whether everything in her house was in order, yes, she totally was _not_ procrastinating and avoiding her workload. She pondered whether she should change out of her enviro-suit and put on something else. She had quite a few clothes now of alien make, and even some weaved by quarians. Of course she didn't _need_ clothes, because an enviro-suit was like a second skin, and armor, and an EVA suit all in one, and like all quarians she had customized her suit to be a form of personal expression. Still. There was something liberating about wearing something that wasn't melded to your being, to feel the wind skim over her skin. It was delightfully … obscene.  


Which meant of course that she couldn't put on a dress and go outside, lest someone espy the Ambassador flaunting her body. What she could do was put a dress over her enviro-suit, but she didn't feel like it.  


She smiled. It was nice to return to trivial concerns over propriety.  


She unlocked her mask, and put it on the dinner table. At least she could get to feel the breeze on her face and bask in the light of her own sun. That was acceptable.  


Her garden beckoned to her. She finished her drink, and went outside.  


As with all other quarian homes, the garden was centered on her house, and divided in concentric circles. Farthest was the barren wilderness she had crossed, which would remain untouched. Closer were Tali's orchards. Between these two zones they would be growing cereals next year. Closer still was the herb garden, and various patches where she grew vegetables and fruits that required more care than the farther trees. Thin irrigation canals spanned it all, fed by pumps that drew water from the river where the Reaper lay dead. No walls enclosed her perfect harmony.  


But Tali loved the most her flower garden.  


It boasted blooms from all over the galaxy. She'd been careful to select terminator seeds only, which would safeguard the homeworld from invasive species. With these, she had created what she thought of proudly as the most beautiful garden on Rannoch ; within its bounds, she tended plants cultivated for those she cherished.  


She had demael flowers for Garrus, which she cared for despite everything ; and she grew nightblooms for Mordin. Thane had twining lerian ferns and usharet flowers, from Kahje and from Rakhana. She was raising korkro for Wrex, who had taken to chewing the edible roots, and for Grunt she had sovak trees, whose fruits could be made into an alcoholic juice both krogan enjoyed. The common irsaal, the most beloved of the Thessian flowers, was for Liara and for Samara.  


Eden Prime lace-in-lilac for Shepard, Ashley and Kaidan, and for Javik too ; waratahs for Miranda, and chrysanthemums for Kasumi ; and for her other human friends, for James and Sam and Joker, for Steve and Jacob and Chakwas, for Chief Engineer Adams and for Pressly, for the two Daniels-Donnelly, for Jack and for Zaeed and for EDI, for all the other humans who had lived on both Normandys, she had roses and peonies, tulips and violets, poppies and cornflowers, hyacinths, lilies and irises, lotuses, anemones, lavenders, hellebores and many more whose names she had already forgotten.  


And side by side she grew two Rannochian plants simply for what they meant to her. Oh, they were beautiful for sure - although Mordin had once explained to her these were not strictly "flowers" because they were not meant to be pollinated by insect-analogues - but Tali prized them for what they represented.  


There was the _tiral azhana_ , which bloomed in the deserts and stored water within its thick stem, hence its name ; they had not taken a single sample with them when they'd fled Rannoch because they had no use for beauty. Then were her stems of _keleven_ , which had been greatly valued for their high nutritional content during the Exile ; but Tali had always loved them for their pretty blossoms. Together, the two plants symbolized the quarians as a whole - the ancient and the old, the new and the repurposed. They were dearest to her heart.  


When they were in bloom, Tali cut some of the flowers and weaved them into a wreath, and she brought it to the ledge of Reaperfall ; and after looking with satisfaction at the ruin of the Reaper overgrown with vines, she would place the crown on the monument. _For Legion_ , she would think.  


Eventually, the beauty of the flowers proved too alluring, and she decided she could work well in the garden. She settled on a bench in the shade before starting to methodically go through her tasks one after the other. She'd have to appear before the Conclave soon to face her principal detractors, many of whom thought that her position - promoting goodwill between the quarians and the geth on the one hand, and representing her people in the galaxy on the other hand - was unnecessary, if not outright pernicious. Thankfully the other former Admirals left her well alone, as her job fell outside of their respective purviews. Unfortunately, that cut both ways. Sometimes at night spikes of dread would strike her when she wondered what exactly was Xen doing in those science ships of hers, high in orbit…  


Tali sighed to herself. It was no use to dwell on these things. She looked through her list : she'd need to do her community drudgery in Bodda before the end of the week. She should have a go at maintaining the sewers this time, since she deemed it necessary to understand the vital systems of her town ; beside, garbage collecting did not amount to much in a society which threw nothing away, and she should leave it to others.  


She paused in her train of thought to bring to light that notion. _Again_ with the preoccupation of how she was seen. When had it begun ? Was it the burden of being an Admiral's daughter that had shaped her so ? But she only resented that now. Why ? Because she had never been so far apart from her people. But it was her duty. _It is your duty … Tali vas Nedas._  


Tali frowned, and massaged her temples. She was running around in circles. Sighing again, she focused back on her work.  


Before Lun'shal she would be leading a joint quarian-geth expedition to one of the old cities left in ruins by the Morning War. The geth had been the caretakers of the homeworld, and had repaired and maintained the parts of the quarian heritage that had been damaged during that bloody conflict ; and, for now, her people only traveled to cities like Dazza in order to see the wonders of old ; but the quarians Tali would lead would be looking for artefacts in those parts of the city that had been destroyed during the bombardment and which afterward the geth had surrendered to the battered ecosystem of the planet. Anything, from works of art to circuitboards, was of interest to the Rannochian Institute.  


It was not the first archaeological expedition Tali would be a part of, needed mediator between geth and quarians that she was. In fact, they expected to open the first modern quarian museum by Fal'tash of next year. She would be the one to inaugurate it alongside the Admirals ; there was an entire exhibit of that museum which would be dedicated to "The Homeworld during the Exile", which used a compilation of century-old geth footage that showed the accelerated evolution of war-torn Rannoch over three hundred years, how the geth had worked to clean the rubble and the toxins left over from the Morning War, even going as far as maintaining farmland for the day when their Creators would return.  


It was all part of her plan.  


Building bridges.  


Showing the truth.  


She dearly hoped it would work.  


The day grew dimmer as slowly the sun began to sink toward the horizon. Weariness gradually overpowered Tali's focus, and the blocks of words began to flicker left and right before her very eyes. She turned off her datapad, and lazed for a moment or three in the sunlight. Then, when she got up, she picked tubers for their dinner, then carried the whole lot of them into her house.  


Her husband was in the kitchen, humming to himself as he rummaged in the cupboard, through the preserves and the jams and the cans of food. He had stripped off his enviro-suit, and was wearing a black shirt and short black pants that ended just above his knees. The sight of them hugging his powerful body, and of the back of his head gleaming in the reflected sunlight, set parts of Tali's mind on fire, and the blazing remains that could form a coherent thought entertained a very specific direction for the evening.  


But it was mostly relief that flooded over her as she heard him croon tunelessly the words of "My Suit and Me" ; without him, she could never be home.  


She quietly put down her tubers and tiptoed toward him, but he heard her, turned, and smiled. "Hi."  


" _Kal_ ," she mock-whined. "Turn back, please ?"  


"Yes ma'am." He did as she had demanded, and this allowed her to hug him from behind, crossing her arms over his heart. She sighed with contentment.  


"Long day ?" he asked.  


"The worst."  


He didn't say anything, but placed a naked hand over her glove and stroked it with his thumb.  


"Let me help you with dinner," she told him. Nodding toward the tubers, she added, "I was going to surprise you anyway."  


"Funny," he said. "I had the same idea. Didn't expect you until much later." With a flicker of his hand, the orange readout of his omnitool came to life, displaying a recipe. "How about we do it together ?"  


"As you say, squad leader."  


For a moment or two, they shared a companionable silence, washing, peeling and slicing the tubers. "How was your day ?" she asked.  


"No real mission as of yet, nothing exciting." Not that he'd have relished any foolish opportunity to get his men killed. "I've been discussing an excursion to Ket'osh. Seems like some people want to return to the outer worlds. They'll need an escort."  


"Ket'osh ?" Tali repeated. "We should be focusing on the homeworld. What's the point of spreading ourselves thin when we don't even number twenty millions ?"  


"You're probably right," he said. "But it's not your call."  


She'd have to look into that, check the intentions of the would-be colonists. Maybe they were separatists ? She shook her head. "I hope you'll get to see the old colonies."  


"I'd like to see them with you," he said. "Anyway. It's not like that mission's been approved or finalized. 'S more likely I'll be assigned to Omega again to look after the hydroponics experts."  


Tali smirked. "It's still better than being my military attaché, isn't it ?"  


He briefly ceased his tuber-cutting to place his hand on hers. "It had its perks."  


She looked at him, gazing at the way the light of the evening sun set bright colours across his skin, reveling in his presence. His career was something of an oddity, she thought while following with her eyes the angle of his strong jaw. He was too precious a leader of troops to be wasted at a desk job, but so intelligent and politically astute that not promoting him would have been an insult. Therefore, he oscillated between field commands and advisory posts, being the unofficial right hand man of Vice Admiral Uli'Finnas.  


"Do I have something on my face ?" he asked her suddenly, abruptly interrupting her thoughts.  


"N-no, not at all," stammered Tali. "I was wondering why you chose to change out of your suit."  


He made the suit-gesture for indifference. "Part of it's the pleasure of bein' outta uniform. I'm sure constables too like to put away their indigo-and-yellow after a day's work."  


"And the other part …?" Tali trailed off.  


The corner of his mouth perked. "I knew you were in when I found the house unlocked. Figured you'd like to see me in those."  


"I won't, ah, deny that those … suit you well." _Keelah_ , just the thought of the air of their planet licking his naked skin just under the clothes was a turn-on.  


"Figured," he said again, and resumed dicing his tubers.  


Tali cleared her throat. "So, do you think Han'Gerrel's going to retire ?"  


Silver eyes briefly locked with hers. "How should I know ?"  


"You work with Han'Gerrel's number two. You might have heard things."  


"You're Admiral Gerrel's equal. If you aren't aware of things like that, odds are they won't let your partner hear about those either," he retorted with a smile.  


"But what do you think ?"  


Kal paused, and considered the edge of his large knife. "I think the old man's feeling guilty over committing us to the Evening War and causing so many deaths."  


"Really ?"  


"Yeah."  


"Now that'd be a change."  


"I also think," Kal continued, waving his knife for emphasis, "that he won't retire precisely because he wants to redeem himself, both in his eyes and in the eyes of the People."  


"Hmmm," Tali mused.  


"Tali," he warned.  


"What ?"  


"Focus on the here and now. You just nearly chopped off a finger."  


She scoffed. "I'm sure my suit would have stopped that nick."  


"Sure."  


"I'm an engineer !" she argued, defensive. "It's my job to imagine what's going wrong, and how and why, and how to repair it !"  


"And my job's to shoot things, _ge'keelah_ ," he said teasingly. "I think you should try to enjoy the moment."  


To please him, she indulged him with idle chit-chat, but he turned out to be right, as he so often was : merely talking of simple things soothed her. She could practically feel the knots between her shoulders unspooling.  


"So," he said eventually, "why was your meeting so short ? This's got to do with your day being rotten ?"  


She knew instantly that he had been purposefully relaxing her so that she would be at ease when talking about what troubled her ; that he'd known that something was wrong, and immediately taken steps to address it. She loved him all the more for that. "I was ambushed."  


"Ambushed ?" he repeated.  


"Not by anyone with a weapon. By politicians."  


He stopped washing his hands to look at her. "That's even worse."  


"That was just the start of it. I … crashed." She told him everything, without omitting the slightest detail : the disastrous meeting in the Tower, Miranda, Urdnot Uta, the geth, Liara, and all the quarians aboard the Dorn'Hazt. She even mentioned Chatika, and the breakdown she'd nearly had when she'd glimpsed the Ancestral Fane.  


When she was done, he walked over to her, and embraced her. She melted in his arms.  


"Damn," he said. "That sucks. That's just plain awful."  


"Do you think I'm whiny ?" she asked him, then regretted doing that. She'd just complained and complained and complained, for nothing altogether important ; of course he would-  


"Even if you were," Kal told her, "I think you deserve to be."  


Tali grumbled something even she was at pains to hear.  


"Honey," he said, and caressed her between her shoulder blades, "do you even realize the pressure you're under ? You've got _a lot_ on your plate. I mean, you're taking the extent of service and sacrifice way beyond where anyone else would balk and bail, and you think _you_ are taking up space and attention ?"  


"It should be easier," she said.  


"It's not," he replied. "You're not made of steel, or of … whatever the Citadel's made of. You're only quarian, Tali. It's normal to feel like you do." She let go of him, somewhat embarrassed by her weakness, but he caught her by the wrist and made her look at him. "And it's normal, when your defenses are down, for old ghosts to come back and haunt us."  


"But you'd think…" She swallowed. "You'd think I wouldn't just short-circuit just thinking of my father. I've spent _months_ tinkering his VI."  


"And you think that didn't take its toll ?" He drew her close. "What I think is that it opened up an old wound."  


She said nothing. Instead she hugged him back.  


"I still mourn my marines," he told her after a moment when they'd just been quietly enjoying each other's embrace. "You know that, right ?"  


"I know."  


"Well, when I was in therapy with Dr. Shiya, she said something that struck with me. 'It shall pass. Everything shall pass.' At first, I thought she meant that I'd stop remembering them, and I was pissed, I didn't want that … but now I know better : the dead never leave you, but the pain does, eventually. No pain lasts forever."  


"But I'm in pain right now," Tali said.  


"Tali," he said, "love of my life, trust me when I say this." He cupped her cheek. "It shall pass. All of it. But right here, right now, I'm with you."  


Tali closed her eyes, let her head press against his hand. "I don't want to feel that way."  


"I know."  


They stayed together, in that position, for a few minutes ; there was only the sound of the wind chimes to trouble their moment. Then Tali disengaged herself. With Kal's permission, she left him for a little while to tend to the tubers by himself. She wandered in her house, and her feet took her to the wall where hung photo frames cycling memories of those they'd both lost.  


Tali's parents.  


Tali's mother with Shala'Raan.  


The members of Clan Reegar, saluting, some still living, many of them dead.  


The squad on Haestrom, with Tali, as the leader, front and center.  


That picture of the crew of the Normandy in Shepard's Citadel apartment.  


Kal's other squad of marines, with whom he had fought for a year, only to lose them on Palaven.  


Her heart clenched. She remembered finding him on the hospital ship. She remembered waking up for the first time in the dead of night because of his spasms and cries. As she had found out herself in her own grief, there was being told intellectually the solution that would ease your pain, and there was believing it. A cure wasn't so easily applied, and pain wasn't stopped because she wished it to. People weren't as easily fixed as machines.  


Still. Wounds healed, though they left scars.  


_It shall pass._  


"How can I help you ?" she asked Kal upon returning to the kitchen.  


He smiled at her. "Everything's under control. It just needs to cook."  


She walked over to him and kissed him on the cheek. "I love you," she told him. "I wish I could promise you I'm done for the night, but I… I don't know… I can't control how I feel."  


"Prefer it when you're open about your problems," he said. He gave her a kiss on the lips. "And I love you too."  


_Keelah_ did he make her heart flutter. She kissed him, and soon they were playing with teeth and tongues, drawing pleasure and joy from one another. His hands moved to her hips while she placed hers over his chest. They stayed like that, intertwined, for a little while, before Tali pulled away. "I hate to say this," she told him as she brushed the back of her forefinger against the arch over his eyes, "but I don't want your cooking to go to waste."  


He groaned. "Neither do I. Still. Let's have a do-over later."  


"Deal." Moving behind him, she slipped her hand beneath his shirt and caressed the hard muscles of his belly. "Doesn't mean I can't avail myself of some of the cook, though," she said, nuzzling his strong shoulder.  


He smiled, and, without looking away from the steaming pot, he slid his right hand over her buttcheek, and squeezed it. "I'm counting on it."  


She enjoyed having him for herself exclusively. As part of the treaty with Wrex, quarian families received krogan interested in learning how to grow and build things, and Kal and Tali had welcomed Urdnot Codra into their lives. The krogan was nothing but kindness and courtesy, but in many ways, Tali thought as she stroked her husband's muscles, it was nice to not have a permanent houseguest for a few weeks.  


Another perk was that Tali and Kal could be as loud as they wanted in their own home. While this would not have phased Codra, who, as a krogan, had a very open attitude to sex, Kal and Tali, who had both grown up longing for more privacy than a ship's solitary - which was better than doing it very very quietly in your family cubicle but meant that everyone on the ship knew what you had put your name on the fuckroster _for_ \- well, suffice to say they would have rather not advertised to their krogan ward what they were doing. That would have meant hearty words of congratulations from Codra over breakfast, uttered like one does when rejoicing over the sunny disposition of the weather, words which had nearly got Kal to choke on his meal, although to this day Tali was uncertain whether he was coughing from embarrassment or laughing at the look on her face. And to think they'd imagined they were being discreet…  


Granted, doing the deed in mortified silence led to Codra worrying over breakfast that they didn't have a healthy amount of sex, and giving some advice, and spicing it up with some raunchy tales (since the end of the genophage, the krogan seemed to be up to _a lot_ of sex) and that inevitably led to more disclosures on the details of Tali's sex life than she was comfortable with.  


(This sounded really unfair for Codra, who was, truth be told, the sweetest thing.)  


So Tali set the table just for two, and placed the pot on a table mat before getting that luxurious novelty - even after a few years - that were condiments and spices. They sat down, and chatted cheerfully as they ate.  


"I haven't told you my latest trick in the great compliant AI debacle," Tali said, mouth full. She took a second serving of the meal. " _Keelah_ , this is… this is really delicious !"  


"Thanks," Kal said. "What have you come up with ?"  


"I've told the Council they should define what's the exact status of the indoctrinated. I even encouraged them to make accords with the Terminus about it, perhaps even organize a summit on Rannoch."  


Blank eyes met hers. "… and this has got to do with compliant AIs because…?"  


"Well, do you think people will object if the Rannoch Coalition insists that the indoctrinated cannot be exploited ?"  


Understanding sparked in his gaze. "You are comparing indoctrination to compliant AIs. Damn."  


"It's only natural if you think about it," Tali said, helping herself to a third serving. "Granted, the intelligence of indoctrinated people decreases proportionally to how much they have been indoctrinated … and the loyalty of compliant AIs is innate, not inflicted. But we're still talking people with a compulsion to obey."  


"And if you add to that broth the fact that the research originally comes from _Cerberus_ ," Kal thought out loud, "then you've got a recipe for outraged public opinion galaxy-wide." He looked at her in a way that made her feel very sexy. "That's nicely done."  


"I'd like to say it was my idea, but it's actually a boy I was talking to today who inadvertently handed me the whole concept."  


"Aren't you afraid your opponents'll learn what you're up to, and plan their counter-offensive accordingly ?"  


"Well, we could not have carried out a conversation on indoctrination by our lonesome," Tali said. "I had to officially draw in the Council. Besides," and she savagely struck her food with her utensil, "it's not like they can do anything, is it ? They can't openly postpone the debate on indoctrination, and if they try that I'll just goad them back to it with a declaration to the press. What are they gonna do anyway ? Deny that they are purposefully creating indoctrinated beings ?" She snorted derisively.  


Kal frowned. "We both know they're gonna argue that synthetics aren't the same thing as organics, and that it just ain't like indoctrination."  


"Well," Tali cracked her knuckles for effect, like Shepard had done, "I've checked the poll numbers of the geth today, and most people are ready to say they're as alive as you and I, thanks to their help in the Reconstruction. If we could move the motion to a referendum…" She sighed dreamily. "Let's just say I'm feeling optimistic, for once."  


"That's good. That's really good." His eyes twinkled. "I'm glad that talking to other people … inspires you."  


She smiled, and made the suit-gesture for "smile". After the dinner was done, she insisted that she do the dishes, because she had been no help to him at all in preparing the food. When she was done, Kal asked her whether she wanted to take a night-time stroll outside, and she said yes.  


As they walked without talking, she heard small creatures rustling and chirruping in the garden, and she felt at peace. She took his hand, and this way they wandered along the irrigation canals to the wilderness at the edge of their home, away from the lights of their house.  


"They're beautiful, aren't they ?" she said.  


"Hmm ?"  


"The stars."  


"Yes. Every time we look at 'em, it's like seeing them for the first time."  


They lay down on the barren rock to better watch them. Far away in the darkness, the mass of the dead Reaper loomed comfortingly.  


"I worry," he said, his eyes locked on the night sky.  


She squeezed his hand. "I'm sorry."  


He squeezed back. "Don't. I'd be a _bosh'tet_ if I didn't worry, with the stress you're under."  


"Do you get that feeling ?" she asked. "That we've lost … a sense of community when we won back the homeworld ?"  


"Sometimes. Not acutely as you, though."  


"I hate playing at captain, I think. And at the same time, it's the thing I do best."  


"Oh, _definitely_ , ma'am."  


She elbowed him in the ribs, and he snickered in the dark. "I'll try not to give you reasons to worry."  


"That better not mean 'I won't tell my hubby about my problems'."  


If Tali could have blushed, she would have been scarlet from head to toe. "I swear I'm getting better at being earnest about me and my issues."  


"That's true." He turned his head to look at her, his pupils shining. "You're not a bad person because you think you know better. We all do."  


"Realistically speaking, some people who think they know better … don't. It's simple math."  


"You think you don't know better ?"  


"I do, but…"  


"What you can do is listening to others, and not treating them like pawns. And from what I heard tonight, you're already doing that."  


"But doesn't it shock you," Tali told him, "that a quarian leader would be cut off from the sense of belonging to the crew ? I'm faking being-a-quarian."  


"Have you considered that we are all like that ? As quarians, we must always be loyal, trustworthy and cooperative, because we'd be dead otherwise. I think it's part of our culture to _show_ we are all those things. We must perform loyalty, otherwise we'll be judged and shunned."  


_And what's worse for a quarian than exclusion ?_ thought Tali. It wasn't by accident that they exiled their worst perpetrators ; sure, it was practical, but for a quarian it was worse than death to be child of no one, crew of nowhere.  


"You are wise Kal'Reegar," she said.  


"Damn straight."  


"You're a good shot too. And nice to look at…"  


"Go on."  


"You are perceptive. Sensible. Sensitive. You are _very_ good in bed…"  


"Take your mind off the fuckroster, Tali'Zorah."  


"How could I ? Remember the fun we had here ? On that very spot ?"  


"Oh, do I."  


"Or in that lake…"  


"Tali." He squeezed her hand again. "How about you don't rev my engine ? Sex outdoors is fun, but in a bed it's … more comfortable."  


"How pedestrian."  


"Tali ?"  


"Alright, alright."  


He gave her a quick peck on the cheek. "Don't think you're gonna be spared in the bedroom though."  


" _Keelah_ , I hope not."  


He smiled in the dark. "Feeling better, I see."  


"Definitely. Now I've got something to look forward to."  


He adopted a look of offense. "And your work, the house, the life we have together…?"  


"Details, Reegar, details."  


"You evil woman."  


"Please. We both know you are using me for my body."  


His hand brushed against her hip. "Guilty as charged."  


They made out in the solitude of night, with only the stars as their witnesses.  


"You are my sun," she told him. "My berth. I lost my captains, my ship flies without me, my crew has been scattered… I'd be lost without you."  


He groaned. "Alright. Now I just can't not take you back home and have awesome sex with you."  


It was a miracle, love-drunk as they were, that they made it home without trampling some of their precious plants. By the time they entered the bedroom, laughing, he had unsheathed and his hard length pushed against the black cloth of his short pants. They kissed. She lifted his shirt over his head and left a trail of kisses up and down his muscles, licking the recesses of his body. That made him moan, and he grabbed her ass and pulled her on the bed.  


"Let's get you out of the damn suit," he said, licking his lips.  


That was a long and unsexy process. He pulled down her hood, which he unclasped, and undid the many belts and straps that kept her suit closed ; he was cursing all the while. That made her giggle. He unfastened the long yellow choker that adorned her neck and delicately put it on the nightstand. Having done so, he couldn't resist placing kisses on her still-covered breasts, and feeling them with his hands, and though she could not really feel the sensation, that was like dropping a load of hydrocarbons on a barely contained fire. "Kal," she pleaded, "hurry up."  


"Doing my best, ma'am." He untied the lengths of fabric that joined over her crotch (and used the occasion to rub between her legs, which elicited a barely contained moan), then pulled off the twin bands of purple cloth that circled her thighs - "garters," Joker had called them.  


"Whenever you want," Kal said.  


She opened her omnitool and keyed in the password, then pressed the secret button at the back of her head. At once, all her implants disconnected from the suit, and Kal safely unplugged the cords linked to the nape of her neck. Tali then typed another password and pressed another button, and this time invisible lines opened everywhere on her suit. Kal's rough hands hurriedly spread it apart, stealing secret touches all over her increasingly naked body.  


"Hold on," she said. She pulled the cannula out of her nose, then removed the catheters from her, ah, lower wards. "There." She put her naked hand over his naked cheek (and oh, how did that simple intimacy drive her wild) and met his hungry eyes. "I'm all yours, Squad Leader."  


He growled, and tugged the suit from under her, throwing it to the floor. In doing so he turned Tali over, and he groped her ass and kneaded it and kissed her on each cheek. She gasped. With his mouth and his tongue, he went up her body, up her spine, until he kissed the back and the crown of her head, to which he lavished tender attentions. His hard dick pressed against her ass, straining against the cloth that covered it. She turned over to face him and let her legs fall open, teasing him, but they both breathed in sharply when the tip of his length brushed against her entrance.  


"Alright," Tali said, "why is _that_ still on ?"  


Kal looked down at the piece of black fabric increasingly contorted around his penis, and looked at her. "Only fair if you undress me like I did with you … ma'am."  


That evil man ; he knew what turned her on. She kneeled on the bed as he had done, and kissed the tense muscles of his belly as she caressed his hips. This sent shivers up his spine, she felt, especially as she edged closer to the hem. "Tali…" Her hand pulled down the waistband of his shorts, unveiling his ass, which she stroked, while the front of the annoying piece of clothing bunched up at the base of his shaft, revealing the first ridges of his open sheath. She kissed him all the way down to that spot. He moaned, and muttered a few curses she didn't quite catch. She wanted to devour him tonight, but she'd have to be a little more patient.  


"There," she said. She dragged the shorts down the length of his thighs, relishing the way his penis was gradually revealed - that is, until it was completely freed and sprung up to slap against the bottom of his abs.  


"Ow !"  


_Oh son of a bosh'tet._ "Sorry…" she said sheepishly.  


"It's okay," he told her. He removed the short pants and threw them through the doorway. "It was more surprise than actual hurt." Seeing what probably was a distraught expression on her face, he kissed her, and drew her down on the bed. "It's okay." Their legs intertwined. He teased her, passing his tongue on her lips ; she nibbled his, lightly, as softly as the touch of their arm fluff ; and lightly she bit and licked and kissed the edge of his square jaw, the angle of his cheekbones. He sighed, and let the tip of his claw trail down her neck. In response to the exquisite touch, she placed a kiss on each of his eyelids, and basked for a moment in the feeling of their crossed eyelashes, and in the weight of his silver gaze, shining in the gloom.  


"I love you, Kal," she said.  


He closed his eyes, and kissed her on the brow. "I love you too."  


She kissed his throat, which surprised him and made him laugh, and the laughter reverberated into her mouth. It was like she had tasted his pure, unadulterated joy. Down she went, delighting in his collarbone, and he, not to be remiss, took hold of her arm and kissed her all over, from her shoulder to her hand.  


She loved his pecs. She really did. They were broad and firm, and she liked nothing more than cupping them and kissing them and stroking them. The sensation was almost as nice as hearing him moan. When he did, she briefly dipped a finger between her folds, brushing the seat of her pleasure, but the sound he'd just made was even more electrifying.  


His abs she loved just as well. In truth she'd have been embarrassed to answer if someone had asked her which part of his body she found the most erotic. Usually she preferred the part that was in front of her nose at any given moment. Case in point, his abs. _Keelah_ , his abs. She kissed him even more fervently as she made her way down, and he squirmed. Groaned. His dick brushed against her breasts.  


She delicately grabbed it and kissed its base. She could feel it pulse in her hand ; her other hand was lingering on his belly.  


"Tali…" he warned her with his gruff voice.  


She pecked him on the tip. No tongue. "Hmmm ?"  


"Y're doing a little too well. Slow down."  


"Aye aye." She abandoned his penis, and focused on his hips instead, slowly moving down along the lines of the muscles of his thigh, until she reached his scar. It was a thin circle of raised flesh like a weld, whiter than white, above his left knee, where the doctors had grafted the limb force-grown from his own genetic material. She passed the pad of her thumb over it ; she remembered how it had been, finding him in the turian hospital ship, healthy but for an amputated leg. He had not died, even when his whole squad had perished, even with an infection and leg reduced to a pulp ; he had not died by dint of his own robustness, the fact that he had been the first to take a geth in his suit as an example, and sheer, monumental luck. Now he was alive. He was _hers_ ; and she was never letting him go.  


"You alright ?" asked his voice from above.  


"Yeah…" she said. "Got a little lost."  


"I'm asking, because, unless you really wanna lick my feet that have been out on the ground, and… Well I haven't properly scrubbed the dirt off the soles of my feet. We were in a hurry. So how about I show _you_ a good time ?"  


She kissed the scar by way of farewell. "I'd like that."  


He positioned her on her back, as easily as if she weighed nothing, and gave her a long kiss that left her wanting for more. With one hand he began to fondle her breasts ; while his other hand crept on her midriff. He did not speak, did not ask whether she liked what he was doing, but his eyes were intent, paying attention to every sign and reaction of her body. She trusted him implicitly, and in the six-and-some homeworld years she'd been with him, he had never given her reason to question that particular judgement. The way he was looking at her now was why.  


He caressed her, and she wriggled under his touch, biting her lower lip, every fibre of her being crying out for him to enter her. But she could wait a little more.  


When he began to suck her nipple, she tipped her head back to moan.  


It was difficult to concentrate, with him so busy. The ghost feeling of every touch burned on her skin, and when his fingers sought out her folds, she eagerly parted her legs. She was sopping wet. The tip of one claw traced circles around her sweet spot, thrilling heat through her. But then the - the _bosh'tet_ \- had the nerve to shift his attention to her ass.  


" _Kal !_ " she protested.  


He smirked. "All part of my evil plan." He kissed the small of her back. "Beside, I love your tattoo."  


The worst part about the omni-tattoo, Tali had decided long ago, was that the only way she could see it was in front of a mirror - and that looked like she was admiring her ass. Not that Kal seemed to mind. "I love when the bird grabs the thresher maw," he said, and presumably kissed the ink shapes.  


That was the best part about the omni-tattoo.  


"You, _ah_ ," his hand was back on her inner thigh, "ever think about getting one ?"  


"Me ? I ain't the type."  


She smiled. "Who's the type to get tattoos ?"  


He looked at her, straight in the eyes. "Bad girls," he said, keeping the corners of his mouth as low as he could manage.  


"Oh ? Am I a bad girl ?"  


"You say that," he kissed her inner thigh, "as if you don't know what you've done."  


"Mmmmmm… Tell me what I've done to you, you poor man…"  


"Well, y're the one who brought up the lake already." Another kiss. This one closer. "Remember ?"  


Vividly. "Tell me."  


"The house wasn't built. Bodda wasn't even a project. You took me on a hike, told me we'd be 'sightseeing'…"  


Another kiss. Closer. She bit back a gasp. "Well, was that a lie ?"  


"You found a secluded lake. Then you said-"  


"'How about we test the waters ?'"  


He nuzzled her belly. "You do remember. It was planned all along. Wasn't it ?"  


"I'm not telling."  


He slowly licked her folds. "I'll make you talk."  


_Keelah_. "I - _ah_ \- I thought you were, were, telling me how bad I was ?"  


"Very well." He was edging closer to the center. "'How about we test the waters ?', you said. And without waiting for my answer, you began to strip off your suit."  


"You're gooooood at this," she said. "Quite… quite the silver tongue."  


"You stripped off your suit. _Keelah se'lai_ , the sight of you in the daylight, your shoulders, your back, your _ass_ , and that tattoo… You nearly killed me on the spot."  


"Then I dived," she said. She tried to stroke herself, almost sore from wanting, but he pinned her hand to the mattress. "I took a swim…"  


"You came out," he said in sensuous tones, "water dripping all over your body, trailing on your skin. You said, 'Do you need help ?'"  


"I undressed you."  


"You did. You took some liberties while doing that."  


She laughed. "So did you !"  


"You helped me take off my prosthesis." His face grew somber for an instant. "You let me use you as a crutch, as we walked to the bank of the lake…"  


"I walked with you until you started to swim…"  


"We swam. You splashed me. I tried to catch you, I held you, I _kissed_ you, but you slipped away."  


"We swam…"  


"And then," he said, "you waited for me. You sat down. Halfway in, halfway on the bank. Water licking your belly. Licking your calves…"  


"I remember the sight of you too…" she said. Colours splashed on his skin, eager eyes, his strong shoulders, his broad chest, his arousal amply visible…  


"Your sex…" he whispered. "Your sex was peeking through the water. You parted your legs…"  


"I called you over."  


"And then…"  


"Then…"  


He looked at her, a smile tugging at his lips. "Well," he said, "I think you remember that part."  


She threw a pillow at his smug, stupid face. "Because you were that memorable ?" she joked.  


"I did my best. As for you, given the, ah, effort you put, I'm sure you aren't likely to forget."  


"The way I remember it, _you_ were insatiable."  


He moved up on his elbows, and kissed her breast. "You would know. You wicked, wicked woman."  


She took offense to that. "I wasn't very wicked."  


His tongue took delight in toying with her nipple. "Waiting for me like you did. Swimming in the nude. Stripping like that…"  


"It's not like we hadn't had sex before…" She moaned suddenly. He was stroking her with his thumb. That, his hardness against her thigh, his breath against her shoulder…  


"I should tell you stories more often," he said. He licked his glistening fingers - another simple thing that would've been unthinkable only a few years ago. "You're ready."  


"Mmmmmm," she said.  


"Ready for the main course. I mean…" He stumbled on his words. "I'm ready for the main course. You're it. The main course."  


" _Keelah se'lai_ , Kal'Reegar, will you eat me up already ?"  


He was happy to oblige. Positioning himself between her legs, he dove right in. He set out to tease her lips ; the patterns his silky tongue drew on her folds drove her crazy with anticipation and desire. "You know," she said, and paused to gasp, "you could… you could go straight for the mark. I'm quite ready."  


"Patience," he told her. _Keelah_ , his hot breath through her, in her… "I think I can give you a lot more pleasure than that."  


"You _like_ having me writhe in your hands."  


"I need your pleasure. It, ah, vindicates what I do." He kissed her entrance. "Though I'll admit…" he growled. "There's nothing quite like hearing the effect of my care. Gets me off."  


_That_ did wonders to the fire raging in her loins.  


As he resumed his tender ministrations, he started rubbing his hands up and down her thighs. His patient stroking, and the feeling of his warm, wet tongue on her vulva, began to make it difficult for her to form thoughts. He was quite obviously loving each second of eating her out, judging from the way he played around, savoring her and every slight movement of her body that gave away her pleasure. She began to let out a string of curses - many of them krogan - under her breath. And instructions. "Yes… Y-Yes… Right there, right there… _Yes !_ Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, _fuck_ !" He kept looking up at her voraciously, knowing she was loving every moment of it ; the way he ate her with his looks turned her on even more.  


"Mmmmmmm… Yes ! Like that, like that, just like that, yes, oh Kal, yes !"  


That was when Kal made a very squelchy sound.  


It was like a slurp, in the same way a Reaper horn was like Kael'Nara's flute.  


Tali was shaking with laughter.  


The expression on Kal's face didn't help at all. "Tali…"  


She tried to stop herself from laughing, biting her lip, but that only made her laughter come out like a fart.  


He smiled, and his smile broke into laughter, like clouds parting to let the sun shine.  


"Come here," she said.  


She kissed him. He kissed her. They kissed. She licked her juices off his mouth, tasting herself and him on his lips, on his tongue. He kissed the corner of her mouth, her chin, her cheek, her neck. He planted kisses on her collarbone and down between her breasts, before indulging both her nipples. He cupped her breasts, fondled them, kissed them in widening spirals centered on her areolae. He licked the sides and the undersides of her breasts, before nuzzling and nibbling down her abdomen, over the taut muscles of her belly.  


He spread her legs. Kissed her inside each thigh, once on each leg. Then delved back into her. She smiled ; he wasn't one to settle for half-won battles.  


He returned to teasing her folds, with renewed ardor. His hands settled back on their rhythm, caressing her thighs, up and down, up and down. Soon a tide of slow pleasure began to spread all over her body, starting from the point where his mouth met her lips.  


Amidst that rising bliss, part of Tali noticed that he was slowly edging toward the center of her pleasure. She resisted the urge to put her hands on his head, and instead bunched up her sheets.  


He was now tracing light, slow circles around her sweet spot, sending shivers down her legs. He was using just… just the right amount of pressure on her. He knew her well. She drank in the sight of him working wonders between her legs. Their eyes met, and somehow the way he looked at her, full of hunger, was as erotic as the feeling of him and his fiendish tongue loving her, adoring her, worshipping her.  


"You beast," she whispered.  


He flicked his tongue tantalizingly close to the seat of her pleasure. "Your beast," he corrected her.  


His rhythm was steady and resolute ; he never wavered in the way he devoured her. A rising ecstasy was tingling all over her body. "Mmmmmmmmm…" She let out powerful expletives, curses she didn't even know she knew, and her language became "positively Martian", as Shepard would have put it. _Quads. Dgat. Lek. Shrik vai._ The last one was batarian. _Shakni._ That one was salarian - when had she learned it ? And of course, there was the almighty _Fuck_ in its many varieties. _Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuuuuuuuuuuuuck, oh yes Kal, yes, like that, just like that, justlikethat, yessssssss, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,_ FUCK.  


Then she stopped putting it in words altogether and began to scream.  


A finger circled her entrance before reaching past her folds and penetrating her ; it immediately found her secret pleasure and began to massage it. She moaned, curved with ecstasy, grabbing at the sheets. Sensing her mounting pleasure, Kal redoubled his efforts. Another finger began to play with her lips. In her mind's eye, Tali could imagine a great wave rising, rising to high heavens and heights untold. Her toes coiled, grasping for a ground that had been taken from under her ; she felt like she was falling, or rather that she was rising, like a meteor toward the stars. Up or down eluded her ; there was only her body as conduit for the incredible pleasure about to overtake her in her entirety.  


Then, almost unexpectedly, the wave crashed, the sky fell and she came, grinding her hips on Kal's face, her legs quivering with pleasure.  


She came.  


Afterward, still in the grip of her aftershocks, she beckoned him to come closer. He moved on his knees, his dick hard and fully erect with pre-cum trickling down the glans.  


"I need you," she said. Her voice was hoarse from crying out so much, but had a distinctive carnal undercurrent. "Now."  


He kissed her brow. "You sure ?" he asked, cocky, barely concealing a proud smile.  


" _Now_ ," she repeated.  


The first thrust sent her gasping. She cursed, kissed him, and drew him close to her, her hands stroking his chest. The second thrust was deeper, brushing against a sweet spot. Reflexively, she wrapped her legs around his back. The third thrust was deeper still, the fourth was the deepest, and from that point Kal found his pace.  


The sound and the sensation of skin against skin, his heart beating against her chest, his presence alone, him being here, all of this would have been enough to drive her to the heights of bliss ; but every time he sank into her, ripples of pleasure spread throughout her body, and left her aching for more. He felt so good inside her. They shared hot, furious kisses as he drove her closer and closer to her peak. Tali let out an excited cry. She watched him pump into her over and over again. His abs were tense, part of his broad chest was wet with what juices had dribbled down from his face ; he had closed his eyes, intent on his purpose and his own pleasure, trying to stretch the time to his orgasm. She kissed him all over his face, teasing him, tempting him, but he did not surrender. Instead, he stuck in a finger and began to stroke her. She moaned, clawing at his back. That prompted a low growl of pleasure from him.  


" _Ge'keelah_ ," he named her, whispering the term in a husky voice. " _Ge'kaziel. Ge''Ēth._ "  


Whispering back, she encouraged him, spurred him, her hushed words interspersed with the senseless sounds and calls of well pleased lovers. Every thrust set nerves aflame between her legs. In the growing haze that covered her mind, it was difficult to say who was Tali and who was Kal, where she ended and he began ; but that mattered little to her. There was only the fire, that inferno building up in her abdomen and threatening to consume her entirely. She found herself anticipating, with the rocking back and forth of his hips, when he and the next delicious rush would strike her.  


She knew she was almost there when lightning flashes of pleasure began thrilling her body like she was made of conductor stuff. She arched her back, and instinctively her legs clenched around his waist to drive him further, deeper inside her. She relished for as long as she could that feeling of him filling her… Her brain seemingly short-circuited. Her mind went white, and she cried out one last thunderous moan as she came for a second time.  


That was enough to tip him over as well. He barely managed to contain a lascivious grunt before his cock throbbed and stiffened inside her. He faltered in his rhythm, and collapsed in her arms.  


They didn't speak for a moment, the silence between them troubled only by their breathing and elated sighs. At one point, Tali made an especially jubilant sound, which caused Kal to laugh. She joined him, chortling quietly in the darkness of their room.  


"Hey," he said, out of breath.  


She ran her fingertips down his bare chest. "Hi," she panted drowsily.  


Without so much as a word, they sought each other's mouths, and lost themselves in a kiss. This time, they were patient. His hands left soft sensual touches over every place of her body. After a few seconds, Tali moved away and brushed her lips against his neck instead. He sighed. She then returned to him, and gave him confident, lingering kisses. She only parted her lips, not daring to go further ; they shared breath. He cupped her cheek, before his bold tongue darted in her mouth. He outlined her lips and grazed them with his teeth. She returned the favor. Her own tongue ventured further, taunting him, luring him ; she smiled when he gave in to the temptation. They continued for a little while, and that was the most wonderful thing ever.  


He let himself fall by her side, sliding out of her. "Thank you for that. You were amazing."  


"And _you_ were breathtaking." She was gasping for air. "Literally."  


His arms wove around her, and she nestled in his embrace. She was supremely contented.  


"I wanted to devour you tonight," she said. "Show you a good time."  


Kal was huffing. "You did show me a good time. And there's always next time. Next round."  


"I don't think I'm up for another round tonight," Tali sighed. She placed her arm over her eyes. "I'm so hot."  


"You are." Kal pecked her on the neck. "Don't worry, we will always be able to find some other time for you to … take care of me."  


Part of her still wanted to ride him until he cried out as loudly as she had, but the rest of her was too weary to try anything. It had been a long day.  


"How are you feeling ?" he asked, seemingly reading her mind.  


"Better. Hopeful. It's hard to feel otherwise," she said, kissing him, "when I know you are by my side."  


"You don't need me. You're an engineer, the best damn engineer there is ; you can fix anything."  


"Even the People ?"  


" _We_ are the People. The _'Ēth_. We endured countless hardships and survived our own extinction, twice. We've got this."  


She snuggled against him. "I'd be lost without you," she said again.  


His hand caressed the small of her back until his eyes closed and his breathing slowed. She kissed him goodnight, but he didn't stir. Alone in her thoughts, she stared blankly at the ceiling of their room ; but her thoughts weren't bitter or hurtful.  


At last, Tali fell asleep.  


Her dreams that night were filled with music.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for mistakes and bad grammar, English is not my first language.
> 
> This started out of a desire to see Tali and Liara interact, which hardly happens in-game. This is also my very first published fic. Huzzah !
> 
> This story, and the others that follow, takes place in November of 2190 CE.
> 
> Strangely enough, "This unit is nongendered and requests you monitor your privilege" is actually a semi-canon sentence proclaimed by a geth infiltrator whose Twitter account was @ThisUnit1025. 
> 
> Urdnot Uta was mentioned in passing in ME2 as the leader of the female Clan Urdnot, so I figured I should use her.
> 
> "Suit-gestures" were inspired by what the Belters in The Expanse book series do to communicate in the vacuum of space.
> 
> The idea of a quarian/krogan alliance, which informs the background of this fic, was inspired by this headcanon by madamebadger, and _of course_ Tali and Wrex would hash something out in the wake of the Reaper War. In addition, I put a krogan Delegate on the Council, because I assumed that there's no way in hell the krogan are going to take a seat back after being crucial to the general saving of asses during the War. As to why the Council has a President, and why it's Miranda : stay tuned… You should definitely check the account madamebadger, who is an awesome writer and headcanoner ; it was her own Kali fic, This Most Mundane of Fantasies, which kindled my heart for this ship, even though it's just PWP. It's awesome, and everything she writes is awesome. Seriously, if you have not checked her out you should.
> 
> I have very simple feelings about the official quarian appearance, and that's that I do not care for it. In my headcanon, they largely look like Matt Rhodes first envisioned them, i.e. white and shiny and hairless, as seen here. There are a few problems to make it canon-compliant as of ME3 : mostly, Javik mentions that by his own standards the quarians were thought beautiful. I am particularly fond of a work of art by one behnkestudio, which unfortunately I can't find again online, which shows the ancient quarians with nacreous, somewhat iridescent skin. I imagined the quarians as well with large irises which cover most of the sclera, not unlike the elves in Hellboy II (example here) but without the hair. Hair makes the quarians too human. The ventilation grooves on the heads of the quarian characters are an homage to laloon's extraordinary destruction of BioWare's official quarian appearance, which be read here. The way I've chosen to make quarians look is completely different, but that's too awesome a vision not to mention it.
> 
> "'Ēth", the word I use to translate "the People", is a deconstruction of "geth", "servant of the People". Its spelling is a nod to the Semitic word for "god", "'Ēl", which I chose to imply the creator status of the quarians regarding the geth. Using the same principles, "ge'keelah" means "servant of the homeworld."
> 
> The canals that criss-cross the Furnace desert are of course a reference to Barsoom by Edgar Rice Burroughs, which was in turn inspired by what Giovanni Schiaparelli and Percival Lowell thought Mars would be like.
> 
> The way quarians have adapted to their new environment on the homeworld is permaculture, which will seem obvious for those in the know. I thought it the best way to show the "eco-symbiotic" side of quarian society.
> 
> The way it's implied all quarians, even Admirals, must perform some sort of drudgery is outright taken from Ursula K. Le Guin's The Dispossessed, which showcases a stable anarchist society. I figured that, since the quarians already leaned communist in the days of the Exile, they wouldn't resort to a division and hierarchy of labor reminiscent of those which exist in the capitalist system.
> 
> I tried to keep the descriptions of Tali's sexual anatomy as vague as I could (thanks euphemisms) so that she wouldn't map one-on-one as a human woman ; on the other hand, I tried to keep things as close as possible to the experience of human women so that it would be relatable to the readership. This was a fine line to walk ; I hope I did it well.
> 
> For those who wonder, I have read Terry Pratchett. As can easily be discerned by anyone who has read his books, I fundamentally agree with him on what sin actually stems from. Whether I can apply the concept as thoroughly as it requires is another matter entirely.


	2. Ruins have no tell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's 2190 CE. Four years ago, Commander Shepard, hero of the Citadel, sacrificed her life to take control of the Reapers and put an end to the cycle of genocide. Now reconstruction has begun in this watchful peace.
> 
> Since then, Liara T'Soni has been searching the ruins of dead races to find a way to free the Commander and put an end to the risk of a resurgence of the extinction cycle once and for all - to no avail. Now, without any other lead, she flies to the first Prothean site known to her species, the ruins whose discovery first led the asari to the stars almost twenty-eight centuries ago.
> 
> Yet many want the secrets of the Protheans for themselves, and some fear what she might unearth. In the ruins, Liara may find, instead of answers, more questions and more lies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Caution : at some point, a POV character contemplates the possibility of suicide.
> 
> There is also a rant on how science is very cool.
> 
> Also violence. Not too gory, but, you know. People fight people.
> 
> English is not my first language, so let me apologize in advance for the mistakes.
> 
> I hope you'll enjoy this story.

"Doctor T'Soni. Doctor Liara T'Soni. You're known to the public as one of Commander Shepard's closest allies, and perhaps one of the most instrumental persons in deciding the outcome of the Reaper War with your discovery of the Crucible superweapon ; but really, you need no presentation. Many of us would like to know : how are you ?"

"I am well. As well as can be."

"I think we are all glad to know this. You've come to the fore yet again a year ago when you published _Journeys with the Prothean_ with Javik. Javik declined to be with us today, but it's my understanding that you two live together, correct ?"

Liara smiled, and cursed inwardly her proper, rational decision of managing her public image. The journalist and herself were at the moment in an automated shuttle flying over the cloud cover of Thessia, away from Serrice.

"You are correct. Javik lives in my home ; he's a castaway from a distant time, and as his friend, I feel it is my duty to accommodate him. It is also my privilege." She let just enough time go by, but not enough for the journalist to ask another question, before saying, "Everything about Javik, the Protheans and I is a matter of public record, is it not ? Surely you've made your research, and read all the interviews I gave when we published our book."

"Yes, naturally," was the journalist's reply, "but we're trying to paint a faithful portrait of your present self…"

"Then you already have more than enough on Javik and I. Suffice to say, he still lives in my basement, where he's made his camp. I'm pleased to say he has opened up somewhat, by helping the reconstruction and the Awakened."

"Javik is vocal in his hate of the Reapers and in the need to fight and destroy them, regardless of the cost in lives and the end of peace. Where do you stand on that ? You've said before that while you trust the Commander's ability to rein in the Reapers, the only acceptable peace is one where they are subservient to the galactic races, or destroyed. Has your position changed ?"

"Not really, no. I believe that if there is any indication they try to control us, or to 'play Goddess', so to speak, then we should immediately disable them or destroy them. That being said, we currently lack the ability to stand our own against the Reapers ; our priority is and should remain the reconstruction of our infrastructure before we focus on developing Reaper-killers." She felt her mouth stretch in a strained smile for the journalist's benefit. "Sadly Javik and I disagree on this point."

"What about the rumor that the Crucible could have been used to destroy the Reapers, instead of subjugating them ?"

"I honestly don't know. I haven't been allowed to examine the Crucible in depth, and while we built it, no one knew what it was meant to do." That was a lie ; truth was, the Crucible could wipe out all synthetic life in the galaxy in an instant, but it had been detach from the Citadel and taken somewhere safe, somewhere the Reapers would not know about, before someone was able to reach the weapons' controls at the heart of the space station. Liara would find another way before they had to sacrifice EDI and the geth and - as much as it pained her to admit - what Shepard had become.

"Do you feel guilt for putting us in this situation ?"

Liara burst out laughing. "Goddess, that must be the question I've been asked the most these past few years. No, I don't. Like I said, I didn't know what the Crucible would do, I just knew it might work. In retrospect, it was a foolhardy thing to do to pool so many of our wartime resources on that one slim hope, but it was our only hope. The Crucible allowed us to live to fight another day ; that's more than enough for me."

"And you are fighting in your own way, right ? As I speak, we're flying to the Heart Ruins, the Prothean ruins on Thessia that first spurred us to the stars. Are you looking for another superweapon ?"

"Another superweapon would be a stroke of unimaginable luck ; I'm afraid my expectations are humbler. Any kind of advanced paleotechnology might help us ; with Javik, we have an unprecedented insight into Prothean dig sites that were scoured millennia ago. I think this is our best chance, should the Reapers ever step out of line."

"Alright." The camera's light blinked off, and the journalist smiled. "We'll be taking a short breathing period, and then we'll look over your past."

Liara exhaled. "I'm glad. I really feel uncomfortable when I talk on camera."

"Do you ? You sound like a natural."

"It's practice. I've had to give a lot of interviews over the years. If you look at the earlier ones, I'm a gibbering mess."

The journalist let out a laughing trill, and then looked over the notes she'd been taking.

Liara truly, unrelentingly hated doing this ; truth be told, however, she hated her enemies even more, and this interview was just another move in the campaign she'd been waging for years against her foes - her detractors who insisted she should just shut up, those who would besmirch her, and the smilers who tried to play friends and arrogate to themselves some of her achievements and authority.

Her omni-tool pinged discreetly, urging her to check her email - which she did, careful to not angle the display in a way that would allow the journalist to read it.

Apparently, Javik had been called elsewhere for some urgent matter, and would not be with them at the Heart Ruins today. She frowned. This meant that he would be working on some official business with at least one government, something she had not foreseen at all. By all accounts, the various governments of the galaxy were trying to _avoid_ Javik. This … activity worried her, but also served to remind her that she was not, indeed, omniscient. Contrary to what she'd told Tali earlier, she was walking a finer line than she'd like between blind faith in her grasp of the situation - any situation - and paranoia.

The need to immediately access some of her intelligence networks stung her like a festering wound, but she ignored the desire. That sacrifice had been made long ago for a reason, and the ease she had given up had bought her - and bought her still - considerable cover, enough to operate unhindered for decades to come.

Still, the impulse remained…

"Is everything alright, Doctor T'Soni ?"

Liara nearly jumped at the journalist's question. "Yes, of course," she said brusquely. "Why ?"

The journalist blinked, and though her brow knitted she covered her brief loss of composure with a smile. "You were frowning. Well you _are_ frowning. You looked really displeased."

"Oh." Liara felt the tension wash off her shoulders, and laughed with relief. "It's nothing, there has just been some … inconvenient change at the dig, and it is messing with my schedule."

The journalist laughed in turn. "Nothing too serious then."

"No." Liara mirrored her smile. "Nothing grave."

"Okay. We'll be going back to the interview in just a few minutes if you don't mind."

"Not at all."

The journalist nodded, and concentrated once again on her notes.

Liara looked through the shuttle's window. Clouds stretched without end or break to the horizon ; they hid well the marred surface below. It must have been raining on this part of Thessia ; perhaps those rains came as a blessing for crops down below, or perhaps they would precipitate mud flows that would sweep away everything and make matters even worse. She didn't know ; she couldn't have said where exactly on the planet they were. The scope of what she could materially know had limits, of course, yet part of her still berated herself for her ignorance.

From this height, it was tempting to believe things had returned to normal, but the hardy coveralls the reporter wore, instead of a sharper outfit, were a reminder that the reconstruction was far from over. It had not been a year since the dust had finally settled and stopped choking Parnitha's light. So many had survived the war, only to die from disease or famine ; and even now, with only a few standing hospitals, little medicine, and so few doctors left alive, asari still succumbed to ailments that used to be harmless. The cities were abandoned, sheltering only, amid gutted towers, the camps and complexes her people had erected from rubble and prefabs, and many had made it to the countryside to farm crops or tend the hydroponic facilities the geth and the quarians had helped them build.

She envied Tali's homeworld, at once ancient, untouched, and full of promises. But it could have been worse for the asari : to all intents and purposes, Palaven was dying. Thessia was merely… devastated.

She hoped Tali was doing better. While they both shared a galaxy of burdens, Tali would care about her people in an intimate way that was alien to Liara.

Liara cared too. In a more abstract fashion.

The Shadow Broker saw things in their stark reality and uncovered the pattern of interconnectedness of all things ; at some point, everyone seemed more like… puppets, on strings. It was easy to tug slightly and look at the way they danced.

It frightened her, at times.

She should talk to Tali more often. It would be a good thing to expand the network of people she could confide in - after all, there were some things she refused to say to her father, Wrex was exceedingly busy, and Javik wasn't one to be entrusted with emotional vulnerability. She feared she needed people to ground her.

"Whenever you're ready, Doctor T'Soni."

Liara breathed in, and braced herself.

"This is Nashayra T'Kissi for _The Observer_. Welcome back to our interview with Doctor Liara T'Soni, of Normandy fame. Doctor, thank you again for granting us that interview."

"My pleasure," mumbled Liara.

"This is a rare opportunity. We know you value your privacy, Doctor, though events always seem to conspire to put you back on the galaxy's center stage."

"Goddess, I know. I wish for some reprieve."

"Do you ? Really ?"

"I wish I could stop, but I do not have the luxury. I think we can all agree the times are exceptional…"

"That has not stopped you from focusing as well on less pressing issues. As the daughter of Matriarch Benezia and Matriarch Aethyta, you have been vocal as well against the prejudice faced by the asari-fathered - those who at times are disparagingly called 'purebloods' - and those who seek more than sex with their own kind. What can you tell us about your political commitment ?"

"Well, maybe I'm not the best one to talk about that…" said Liara. "People far wiser than I have spent centuries fighting this fight, only to be ignored ; I only use my fame to shed light on this issue, by which I mean, we should listen to them, not me."

"What do you have to say to those who argue that now, in the midst of the greatest crisis we have ever faced as a galaxy, now is not the time to, quote, 'nurse the woes of the ill-integrated members of society', unquote ?"

"When, then ? There will always be something more pressing or more important for those people who do not care about us. We are already millennia too late. It is undeniable that historically there has been disproportional delinquency and drug abuse among the asari-fathered ; but instead of criminalizing them, we should spend time and resources to go to the root of the problem, which is the systemic prejudice we've been facing since the dawn of our galactic age."

"Are you linking the prejudice against the asari-fathered to siari, Doctor T'Soni ?" asked the journalist.

Liara considered her next words carefully. Then went for it. "Absolutely. Siari accompanied our transition, as a galactic species, to the situation we are in now. Understand, I am not condemning xenophilia ; I am a xenophile myself-" Well, there she went coming out to the galactic public. "-but I condemn this … fixation on who we might love, who we can choose to have children with, as a sign of normative 'open-mindedness'. At some early point in our history, we chose to appear as as non-threatening and trustworthy as possible ; I believe it is a mistake. We should live for ourselves, not to reassure the non-asari."

"Some of those who disagree with you would argue you are unenlightened and being dangerously selfish-"

"I would argue on the contrary," interrupted Liara - Goddess, she was getting angry, "that we are being hypocritical by trying to artificially appeal to non-asari, because this entails they would consider us a threat otherwise. It's condescending, really, treating them as lesser than us ; we are patronizing them at best, and manipulating them at worst."

"And the prejudices asari face from some members of the galactic population…?

"…are nothing but misinformation we have allowed to spread, for fear of appearing too harsh otherwise, or perhaps because we might benefit from appearing 'mysterious' or 'mythical'. Consider the Ardat-Yakshi for example," and she caught the journalist's wince.

"What about them ?" said T'Kissi.

"We have erased them from the public consciousness, to the point that, until recently, some members of our own race believed them to be legendary. Why ? Because they are _inconvenient_. I do believe the stigma against purebloods originates from our fear of Ardat-Yakshi, a condition we've ignored, again, for millennia, instead of trying to cure it. For that, we are all responsible."

The Ardat-Yakshi, who had once made up 1% of the asari population, had been utterly culled by the Reaper War - which had led to some odious gloating by asari in senior political positions, and even more hate for the purebloods and those asari who dared to love one another. Her people, no matter what they pretended, were an ugly species.

In the galaxy Liara was shaping, they would be better.

"This is not the first time you have taken a controversial stance. In 2188, only two years ago, Javik accused High Command of hoarding Prothean artifacts in clear violation of Council law - a charge that High Command initially denied, until recanting later that same year in the face of mounting evidence, thrusting the Republics into a scandal that is still rocking many citizens to this day. Has your stance changed on the Affair of the Thessian Beacons ?"

"Changed ? Not really, no," Liara said. "'Nuanced', maybe. I hear now the opinions of those who insist that this is only realpolitik." Aethyta, her own father, had been relentless on that, and many times they had argued for hours, sometimes until the break of dawn. " _Of course_ the Salarian Union and the Turian Hierarchy would have done the same to get an edge on everyone else - if they haven't already." T'Kissi furiously scribbled a note, glee sparkling in her eyes. "My… my comments on the subject as it unfolded… They were moved by disillusion." She laughed sadly. "We are not as good and enlightened as we would like non-asari - and ourselves - to believe. Perhaps it is time that, instead of deluding ourselves in thinking we _are_ as we've been told, we aim to become our own ideal. No one - regardless of race or rank - should be above the law."

"Strong words, Doctor T'Soni. But what of those who claim that you had known of the Thessian Beacons since the War, and that you chose to stay silent anyway between 2186 and 2188 ? Isn't that in contradiction with what you just said ?"

It was a testament to Liara's arduous media training that she kept the wince off her face. "I did know. I learned it with Commander Shepard and Javik on the day Thessia fell. However-"

"Does that mean that, had Javik not chosen to end the secrecy, we would still know nothing of how, as you put it in 2188, 'the government betrayed our people' ?"

_Have you betrayed us, Doctor T'Soni ?_ That was the implicit question. How to explain that, yes, on one hand she _had_ been mollified because she had been assured she could oversee the inter-government, Citadel-led investigation and examination of the Beacons, lead the effort the way it had always been meant to be… but that she still intended to disclose the existence of the Beacons later ? In the future ? When it would be more convenient ?

Truth be told, she had yearned as well for this measure of direct control that came with the responsibility. She chafed at the yoke of the public eye, of entitled incompetents who would have endangered her efforts with their meddling. She worked best with no interference, and presently the galaxy needed her best.

How to explain that she did know best ?

"I'm not proud of it," she said, speaking the truth. "It seemed the best decision at the time. What I wanted… I remember how it destroyed me, to have all my delusions on what the asari were, or meant… shattered. I guess I didn't want anyone to go through what I'd experienced. But now I can see," she quickly added, seeing the journalist's mouth open, "that it was my responsibility, and I failed it. I failed everyone," she lied. "I'm just one person. Who am I to say when it's my place to disobey the law ? I don't hold a public office. I was not elected in any fashion. It's not my place to decide by myself what is best for the asari."

Goddess, she could imagine her father's comments. And her laughter.

"But Doctor T'Soni, you may not speak often, but when you do you are vocal about what you think is right-"

"Because that is my duty to say what I mean, and mean what I say."

"Even when your words carry a weight that no other asari has ?"

"Especially then."

"Some would argue that you should mind what you say, because many asari worship your every word. Like scripture."

"I can tell you, I'm not a goddess. I've met a few would-be gods in my lifetime, and they were all sorely lacking. I think the people you are talking about should not be afraid of ideas. They are worse things to fear right now, and regardless, they cannot stop the spread of new ideas, even though they might like that very much."

"Because you won't let them ?"

"Because nothing and no one can stop an idea."

"This actually brings us to the next question. Doctor T'Soni, in 2183, after the Battle of the Citadel, you published a paper that was then largely dismissed by the archaeological community ; it was titled _Cyclical predation as an answer to the disappearance of the Protheans_. Wherein, you brushed up on an old theory, the Apex Predator Hypothesis, which was disregarded on the grounds of its unfalsifiable character ; unfortunately, you were vindicated in 2186 -"

"I wish I hadn't been," Liara interrupted.

"But clearly, your readiness to endanger your career and your reputation shows that you thought it necessary to alert the public. This was a decision completely different from the Council's ; do you feel the Citadel Council is responsible for not alerting the galactic community of the coming threat ?"

"In the Council's defense, I think anyone in their position might have done as they have ; which doesn't mean it was the right thing to do. As an archaeologist and a journalist, we can only speculate on their intent. I think there are three ways to explain the Council's decision : they genuinely thought - unlike me - that they could covertly prepare ahead of time without causing mass panic ; they were scared, and didn't act rationally ; or they were afraid that admitting that the Reapers were coming endangered their position and their ability to act."

"Those hypotheses aren't mutually exclusive," the journalist noted.

"No. Only Councilors Tevos, Valern and Sparatus could say for sure what their intent was, and historically we will never know whether it was best for the galaxy to leave it in ignorance or to expose it to the truth." She risked a barb. "However, I find the fact that Primarch Fedorian, among others, had not been warned of the threat by the Council… alarming."

The journalist grinned as she jotted that down. "But you worked with Admiral Hackett, who also chose not to reveal the matter of the Reaper invasion to the public."

"Admiral Hackett's decisions are his own. As are Councilor Anderson's. As for me, I worked in collaboration with a powerful member of the human military who was willing to listen and do something. The Council had three years to contact me."

"So you feel like you have done your best ?"

"I did what I could."

"Then what do you think of those violent groups who claim an affiliation with you, such as the Followers of the Exalted Light of the Word ?"

The interview continued for several hours. T'Kissi asked her many things, some of them irrelevant, many actually crucial. She oscillated between recognizing - and even emphasizing - Liara's heroic status, and aiming for the weak points. Liara was more used to either fawning or outright hostility, not both at once. As for herself, she did as well as she could - like Wrex said, better than she'd feared, worse than she'd hoped.

Then finally, finally, the shuttle broke through the cloud cover and landed on the periphery of the Heart Ruins.

It was raining today on this part of Thessia. The mud squelchily stuck to her boots when she set down her feet on the ground. She gathered her stuff, said goodbye to the journalist, thanked her for her time, and started to move toward the ruins.

"Doctor T'Soni."

She turned back. Nashayra T'Kissi had gotten up and was now halfway out of the shuttle. "Doctor T'Soni… What you do for the purebloods…" Liara bristled at the use of the slur, and T'Kissi swallowed. "What you do," she said, "for us. It's remarkable." The turquoise scales of her knuckles had turned pale with the pressure her fingers exerted. Raindrops streamed down her smooth scalp. "Thank you."

Liara made a mental note to check whether T'Kissi was really a pureblood, or was related to purebloods in any way, and if she was being genuine or just plain manipulative.

Instead of answering, she gave a non-committal nod.

She watched the shuttle take off, and stayed in the rain after it had gone back through the clouds. Then she walked to the central complex.

* * *

As she approached the monastery, she was greeted by Bannyn and a few other guards. "Lady Liara," said the almost-matron.

"Tiamna," Liara answered, and as always, the use of the title made Bannyn stand a little taller. While not the oldest of Liara's tiamnas, she was the most devoted ; as for her experience, well, she had survived the War.

"There is a problem," Bannyn continued. "The Mother of the monastery. She won't let you in."

"Me ?"

"You. The other archaeologists too, but mostly you." 

The Mother was a matriarch, as befitted her role. Liara heard her before she saw her. Her voice was shrill, but retained a degree of measure. In person, she was a stooped little thing, in the last years of her life ; but her face, though heavily lined, was animated by fury more characteristic of maidens.

"I will not," she clamored. "I shall not let that… that _heretic_ into our most sacred sanctum !"

"Mother," Liara called. "If you have grievances, address them to me."

The Mother turned to her, and hate was kindled in her eyes. Liara had gotten used to those kinds of looks ; nonetheless, it still hurt. "This is the Monastery of Our Lady of Consideration ; we have guarded the Heart Ruins since before the time we first crossed the void. I am a dying asari, Liara T'Soni, but with the last of my strength I will not allow you in here. You are not wanted."

"As I understand," Liara told the infuriated Mother with her most level tone, "the government declared the Heart Ruins an asari heritage site ever since our discoveries there allowed us to design our first starship. You may guard the Ruins, Mother, but they do not belong to you or your religion."

She had been careful to project serenity and confidence, but that had obviously not been the right choice with the Mother. " _Impudence !_ " hissed the crone, seemingly bloating with self-importance. "The sheer _arrogance_ ! Young Maiden-"

"I am Doctor Liara T'Soni," Liara interrupted her, "and you will do well to use my name. I do not know yours. How are you called, Mother ?"

The Mother harrumphed. "Does it matter to you ? I must be but a senile old bitty spouting superstition to you, _Doctor_."

Ah, Liara thought. Progress. Here the Mother was trying to - how did Shepard put it ? - get in her shoes, a very asari reflex born out of an ingrained habit to find common ground. She should do the same. She was being watched after all. "And you think I have come here to destroy everything you love and everything you've devoted your entire life to."

The Mother casually flashed her biotics - Liara was reminded of Shepard clenching her fists. "I don't think you have the power to destroy what I believe in. My religion has weathered far greater assaults over the millennia than your wild imaginings, and it will endure long after you are dead and forgotten." She continued on ranting, pointedly vowing that she'd be profusely praying for Liara's immortal soul, but Liara had tuned her out.

She was sorely tempted to just ignore the old woman and proceed with her plan. What could that Mother do against Liara ? Physically restrain her ? She wouldn't have the strength, but Liara didn't want to Throw the Mother off her path. Then again, part of her _really_ wanted things to escalate, to insult the Mother and tell her that, yes, the Goddess was a lie, and she was a deluded slave to a Prothean fabrication, and she had wasted her entire life in a senseless order playing at what passed for spirituality.

Her train of thought screeched to an halt, as she considered the vicious turn her mind had taken. The Mother didn't deserve that. Liara had experienced herself the pain of her entire world turning out to be a lie, and she couldn't blame others for refusing that agony. She hadn't even believed in Athame in the first place.

Though she had long ago accepted that in the course of her tribulations she had become more prone to violence, she was nevertheless appalled by her reaction. She could possibly blame her krogan ancestry, and maybe some of it was lingering rebellion against anything that she could construe as belonging to her mother's sphere - but most of it was what the War had shaped her into. What she had chosen to become for the sake of the galaxy.

_Consideration, compassion, humility_ , she repeated in her head like a mantra. She turned her attention back to the still-ranting Mother, and opted for another much-vaunted asari tactic. "Let's compromise."

That shut the Mother up.

"If it pleases you, I will not enter the monastery," Liara said, "and I will not access the Ruins." She paused to let that temptation sink in. "However, my team should access the Heart Ruins. We _need_ to see if past enquiries have overlooked anything, Mother ; we _must_ find a possible deterrent against the Reapers." _You know what the Reapers are, don't you ?_ she did not say, but thought.

For a second the Mother seemed to ponder the offer of peace -before she rejected it. "You may not go in yourself, Maiden T'Soni, but your agents would do your work for you if I let them in. I will not be complicit in your heretical slander in any way."

Liara's patience was running dry. "I am allowed to be here. I come with the authorization and benediction of the Pontiff…"

"The Blessed Namath, in her 53rd aspect," the Mother cut in, "is a four-year-old child. The Assembly of the Holy Tutors gave you permission, and I do not recognize their authority. The War made them the only candidates for their exalted position ; it does not make them the best-suited ones. I _believe_ ," said the Mother, and Goddess, what a weapon was that word with such a person, "that they do not know best."

"Why is it, Mother," Liara said before thinking things through, "that they do not feel threatened by my findings when you are ?"

The Mother turned an alarming, if altogether pleasing, shade of purple. But before she could say anything, another nun stepped out of the shadows. "Mother," she said, "there is nothing we can do. Let them in ; our faith is strong, our Goddess true. There is nothing they can do."

The Mother opened her mouth to say something, but the newcomer placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. The Mother seemed to deflate and shrink ; then, without looking at Liara, she walked away.

Liara felt relief flood over her. "Thank you," she told the nun, "Sister…?"

The nun smiled a sad smile. She was a matriarch too, but still lithe and tall. "I am Father Adora. Do not thank me, Liara T'Soni. You may come in, but you are most unwelcome."

From where she stood, Liara could hear the frustration and humiliation in the Mother's weeping.

* * *

The monastery was a building of stone hidden high in the mountains, and as a consequence of this the air was brisk and had all of them breathing little clouds, quickly dissipated, in the darkness of the cloister. Their steps echoed across the empty halls as Father Adora led them to the site, and Liara voiced her surprise at not seeing any other nun. Had they all been decimated by the War ? But Father Adora reassured her : the monastery had been too insignificant and too isolated to be attacked by the Reapers. The sisters were merely at prayer, meditating, or working in the fields, for the founder of their order had believed in the virtues of strenuous labour.

_Or they are steering clear of my blasphemies_ , Liara thought. _What would I choose to do in their position ?_ But she knew ; she would have followed the trail of truth and accepted what she discovered, no matter how unpleasant. As a matter of fact, she already had.

They would not hear her ? It did not matter ; still, she pitied them. She did not understand, but she related to the desire to abstain from pain. She wished she had the luxury of innocence.

Bannyn walked before her, Irana was on her left, Delsae on her right ; Teresh followed her closely. It was strange to hear a holy place resound, not with the chants of faithful, but with the sure steps of asari commandos. That did make her feel uncomfortably close to an invader.

Doctor Liara T'Soni, archaeologist, war veteran and galactic hero, did not think she would one day have a retinue as her mother had ; but that, as with so many other things, had been taken out of her hands entirely. She was a public figure, and she had opinions, so it was only natural, in their society, that she attracted like-minded souls who would be her followers. All would-be disciples she had turned down, save one ; and she had hired those with the skills she required to be her staff ; but she had no choice but to welcome those who would serve her by being ready to lay down their lives for her sake, or so her father had insisted. And Liara's father turned out to be right too often to be dismissed.

There were two spies in Liara's entourage that her, ah, side activities had allowed her to detect, and she was glad to have them so near her, where she could shape them and control them. Already the weight of a tiamna's promise and the simple fact of knowing Liara personally were fraying Leri's loyalty to her employers - unlike Kalara, whose supposedly secret treachery, while useful, remained impermeable so far to Liara's attempts to endear her, and turn her.

(The third spy in their midst, Irana, answered to the Shadow Broker. She had been the one who told that elusive figure about Leri and Kalara, and when she wasn't watching them she monitored Liara closely.)

In the rest of her retinue Liara trusted completely, with willing blindness. She could not start doubting those closest to her ; madness lay that way. All she needed to ensure their loyalty was to uphold their believes ; to be, as the Protheans would have put it, an Exemplar of Virtue. She did just that.

Father Adora talked on and on, Liara's tiamnas circled around their principal, and they passed before an ancient fresco, worn out by time. A lot of the paint had flaked off ; as far as Liara understood it, many of these sects considered all forms of restoration to be destructive - a belief most art restorers she knew actually shared - and so let changes and age follow their natural course. Some things, they believed, were too sacred to be reproduced.

The fresco represented a great black-skinned Athame - black, the colour of soil and the night sky, of the meld - with open hands, casting light on the faces of the tiny Guides below. All three figures were bare-breasted, at once a show of dominance and a symbol of service, sacrifice, abnegation. Janiri to the left bore a sapling ; as for Lucen, there wasn't much left of her, but with her visible hand she pointed to a constellation.

From what Liara had pieced together, "Lucen", whatever her real name was, had been a Prothean who'd regretted the interventionism and the experiments and the lies, and she had been killed for that. Had she rebelled, perhaps even sabotaged the Prothean uplift, or had she merely voiced her dissent ? Liara would probably never know, but she was sure Lucen's crime was caring for the asari over her own race.

Was Liara still naively projecting what she'd hoped the Protheans were like onto the dead Lucen ?

She had hurt Javik by doing that. He was a man lost to his time and his home, and she had treated him like her personal science project. She'd sworn to herself this would never happen again. Infuriating as he was, Javik should be treated like a person. Everyone should.

But Lucen was long dead. She couldn't hurt her. And she had to speculate. It was her job.

_Can you falsify your hypothesis ?_ whispered in the back of her head one of her old professors, probably killed during the War. 

She couldn't. _But do I need to ?_ hissed a nasty mental voice. _I was right about the extinction cycles, long before I had any proof._ The doctors, the professors, the entire academic milieu of the galaxy had thought she'd been wrong, and they had all paid the price in blood.

Javik's sullen face appeared in her mind's eye. _I'm not always right._ To think, too, that they'd all thought they knew what the Protheans looked like, when those statues were of the inusannon. _Consideration, compassion_ , Liara thought. _Humility._

They left the darkness of the monastery behind, exchanging it for the gloom of the nuns' garden. The rain had turned into a drizzle, but the mud still snatched at their boots. Liara remembered reading about this place when she'd been a girl, though of course she'd never been allowed in there before the War. _The nuns unearthed the most important Prothean ruins on Thessia in their fields one day. Have you been there, Mother ? We should go some time !_

They walked for some time by the fields rife with the nuns' maturing crops, with no nun to be seen. It was summer in this hemisphere, Liara remembered - _her_ hemisphere. Today was the ninety-second day of the year, only three days from the fourth month's end. Should there be rain this early in the year ? She didn't know. She didn't even recall what day of the decan was today.

At last they arrived at the site, concealed but marked by a forest of glistening white tents. The monastery still loomed uncomfortably close. Nonetheless. Merely being near to the ruins, to the Heart Ruins, made ripples of excitement pass through Liara ; she felt galvanized.

"Doctor T'Soni," Father Adora said, "this is Professor Henell, the site director."

Liara froze.

"We, ah, we have met," said Professor Henell.

She should have known that Professor Henell was site director, let alone that she had survived the War ; but Liara had had little time to prepare this morning, because Tali had needed her.

Professor Henell crossed her arms. "I am happy to work with you again… Doctor T'Soni."

Her mind still reeling, Liara nonetheless reciprocated the greeting. "Professor. I am so glad to see you alive."

Father Adora eyed them both with a palpable nervousness. "I'll… I'll go back to the monastery. If you need anything…" She did not finish her sentence, and headed back the way they'd come.

This left Professor Henell and Liara without a mediator.

She should say something, Liara thought. Anything.

Her biotics nearly flared despite herself. She could hear her furious heartbeat pounding in her head.

Henell kept staring.

Liara smiled. "Shall we get to work ?" she said through gritted teeth.

A ghost of that smile appeared on Henell's lips. "Yes. You'll want to meet the team, I'll wager ?"

"Very much so." Liara ignored the look on Irana's face.

A site of the importance of the Heart Ruins needed a considerable group to manage it properly, and Henell's team had been stationed there as soon as the Republics had deemed further research into paleotechnology crucial for the future of the asari race. After Henell had called inside the salarians and hanar who were out relishing the rain, Liara was introduced to all of them. Most of the diggers were students of the University of Serrice, some of them Liara's own, and for those she had special words of kindness. Otherwise, there was the usual assortment of archaeologists from the various subfields - many of them technological archaeologists like herself - alongside geologists, historians, anthropologists, linguists and the three salarian photographers. She did not recognize their names, which meant these three were not spies for the Union ; besides, she was certain that her government would have thoroughly checked the background of salarians before letting them in this most holy site.

Two people in particular were of interest. There was the hanar linguist, Audwin. In Liara's experience, linguists were always hanar because they simply were the best at their job. Nothing could compare to the fervor of hanar students of languages, and Audwin, a household name in some circles, was the very best.

She also happened to know that Audwin, or, as she should have called it, Shines the Fire of Truth in the Deepest Dark, was a spy for the Illuminated Primacy. Unfortunately, there was nothing she could have done to prevent its presence without tipping her hand.

The other person of interest was Treeya among the anthropologists. She gave a quick, secret smile to Liara from the far end of the crowd.

"These are the very best, I see," Liara told Henell, loud enough for all to hear.

"They are." Warmth colored Henell's voice for the first time. "Many of us have been assigned here since the work on the Crucible began." There was grief in her eyes ; clearly, not everyone on the original team had lived to see the years of peace.

"Is there truly much left to scour ?" Liara asked.

"We hope that, with your unique expertise -" Liara frowned at the attempt at flattery. "- we can find something new."

"Unfortunately, Javik cannot be here today. We shall have to wait for his return tomorrow."

"High Command learned of this," Henell reassured her. "They have sent someone else."

_Have they now_ , thought Liara as she turned to the one Henell introduced. "This is Lieutenant P'lina."

"Lieutenant," Liara said, crossing her arms. "I am pleased to make your acquaintance."

"Likewise, Lady Liara." P'lina bowed formally. "It is in fact a great honor."

"With all due respect, Lieutenant, Professor, how can an asari hope to replace an actual Prothean in our endeavour ?" Liara suspected she already knew the answer, but she had to play her part.

Henell opened her mouth, but P'lina was quicker to speak. "I have been to Zhu's Hope, and there I have acquired the Cipher. To Prothean technology I will appear Prothean, and thus I may unlock what was once hidden away."

That was just as Liara had feared. As long as Javik had been the only key to his people's ancient technology, her presence on whatever site he was sent to had been required ; he would not work with anyone else. By dint of their association, they had spent a whole solar revolution on Ilos after the War, studying the most well guarded ruins of the galaxy.

But now that Javik had become optional, it became possible for her government to conduct their archaeological operations without her. She would have to work in order to not be seen as disposable. A few leaks to the press should do the trick… She was beloved, while the government which had hoarded the Athame Beacons and lied, lied, lied was rightly reviled and mistrusted by the general public ; her people would not tolerate that their hero was sidestepped _again_ by the same class of old _bosh'tets_ which had done so much to see them dead.

"Then let us go into the Heart," she told Henell and P'lina.

There was an opening at the center of the ruins ; an aperture, in what had once been the roof of a Prothean building, buried under fifty thousand years of sediments. Ancient asari archaeologists had excavated the inside of the complex over centuries, and now a rope ladder allowed Liara, her guards and Henell to descend into its depths.

"This is Room 1," Henell announced. "The presumed observation chamber." Her voice bounced off the walls.

"I know," said Liara. She closed her eyes, and breathed in the musty smell of ancient hallowed halls. Over her bed in her home in Armali, when she had been a child, she had fixed a diagram of the Heart Ruins ; and when she had left for Serrice to study, the old poster had followed her into her dormitory. By then, she had spent so many years tracing the outline of the alien building with her eyes that she could have drawn the map from memory.

The poster had probably burned away when her mother's house and her city had been destroyed ; but she was here. She was finally _here_.

"It is beautiful," she remarked, to no one in particular, her words echoing in the dark cavernous chamber.

"It is," answered Treeya's voice behind her. "Doctor T'Soni. How was the interview ?"

Liara smiled. "Dreadful to do, but not dreadful as now, when I wait, helpless, to see the ways she'll warp my words." She turned to look at her acolyte. "Did you face difficulties when you arrived here, with my name attached to yours ?"

Treeya grinned a crooked grin. "I lied, Doctor. I told them I came to help the old team, with whom the nuns are already familiar." Her face grew serious. "Were the superiors of the monastery any trouble ?"

"The Mother especially. But I am here, so I shall not complain."

Liara had first met Treeya Nuwani at the University. In age, they were separated by a decade, and Liara had been assigned to her serious junior as a student mentor. They had never developed a relationship of equals, but somehow Treeya had come to _respect_ Liara and value her judgement, treating her as an intellectual authority of sorts. That had embarrassed Liara… until she had something to tell the galaxy but no one to listen to her. Not even Treeya had believed her Reaper theory, she knew ; but she had not walked away.

"Can we get power to the central consoles ?" Professor Henell ordered. "We need to see if we can activate some VI."

Treeya had not walked away, thought Liara as she helped her fellow asari lower large power cells with her biotics. After a traumatic encounter with the Collectors, she had even come to believe Liara. They'd lost contact after Fehl Prime as Liara prepared for war, but once peace had settled she had had the surprise and the delight to see a familiar face in her Serrice office one day. When time and circumstances had dictated that she take an assistant, she had immediately offered the position to faithful Treeya.

When Treeya had asked if she could be her acolyte, Liara had not said no. What Treeya expected her to teach, however, she did not know.

They still were not friends. Not really. Treeya, like Bannyn, was in awe of Liara, and Liara… Liara could not trust her with her secrets. Besides, she already had friends. She didn't need more.

Room 1 gradually filled with all members of the archaeological team, and floodlights were turned on. She watched Audwin gracefully swing down the ladder like an acrobat, its many-limbed shadow sprawled huge on the wall.

She found the students, and made sure they knew to stay away from the central comm tower should it be turned on. "It goes for you non-asari and non-krogan only," her student, Krex, thought necessary to add. "We superior species don't mind some ionizing radiation. Tickles."

"Fuck you, Krex," said someone of the non-asari, non-krogan description. That retort made Krex bark with laughter.

They were a … rowdy bunch. Many of them were undergraduates, only allowed here because the galaxy was so short on students.

"Krex," she chided, "only Protheans think in terms of superior or inferior species. We are better than that."

"Of course, Doctor." Krex inclined his head. "I apologize."

"Are we going to start soon ?" asked Jella. "I can hardly wait."

Liara smiled to the batarian girl. "Neither can I, truth be told." She was curious to see whether Lieutenant P'lina would come through. Most of her hoped that the Lieutenant would fail, but the part of Liara that remembered staring up at the map of the Heart Ruins wanted something fruitful to come out of this _now_.

There was a great gurgling, screeching sound. A console started to project what looked like a list of glyphs, slowly scrolling down.

"What is this ?" asked Treeya.

"This one believes it is Digital Artifact #36," Audwin answered. "There is no certain translation, but this one thinks-"

"This is a list of the base's personnel," P'lina interrupted it. 

Liara's hopes were thus crushed. "Can you access one of the files for any given Prothean ?" she asked the operator.

"I'll try," replied the asari.

The list shifted to another set of glyphs. Liara turned to the Lieutenant. "What does this say ?"

"'Name : Jarad Kelik, Sex : Female, Caste : Fateless, Born-'"

"Thank you, Lieutenant." Liara had learned Final Prothean through Javik, and what her eyes saw did not belie what P'lina had just told her. Unfortunately.

"What is a 'Fateless caste' ?" P'lina's question sounded genuinely curious, and her eyes gleamed in a way that indicated this was not an act.

"Class ?" Liara called.

The collective intake of breath led her to suspect they relished the opportunity to show off. 

"Protheans could belong to one of two groups," began Kimene. "Before the Extinction War, half of them belonged to a caste, or vocation ; the rest were Fateless Ones."

"There were as many castes as there were jobs," Jella continued. "Prothean fetuses were mass-produced as part of the command economy of the Prothean Empire ; in all likelihood, mnemo-tech and mental imprinting ensured pre-natal adherence to the doctrine of the Empire, in addition to teaching the babies what they would need to know to accomplish their function."

P'lina frowned. "And the Fateless Ones ?"

"The Fateless Ones were children born naturally to two Protheans, who could breed regardless of caste," came Krex's guttural voice. "The caste of the Fateless was not assigned at birth."

"What was the Prothean rationalization for the Fateless Ones, Krex ?" asked Liara.

"It gave free rein to the Cosmic Imperative, and perhaps the creation of even better Protheans," said the krogan. "The sages and the scientists knew it would have been unwise and… dangerously vain to think the designs of the lifemasters could be any kind of perfection. They knew indulging in this proud thought was to enforce a stasis and to sequester evolution."

"Thank you," P'lina told them with a smile, and bowed. "This was very informative." The students wiggled with satisfaction.

"I am surprised High Command did not brief you on Prothean civilization and culture," Liara remarked.

If P'lina heard the insinuation, she did not show it. "I am only a tool for our people. The top brass probably did not think that such knowledge was necessary, or believed I would learn it on the fly. Like I just did."

"It seems like a glaring oversight to me," Liara insisted.

"Is it, my Lady ? How do I serve the asari by being a more informed instrument ? There are other, better-suited people for this task. I don't mind that some facts are on a need-to-know basis." She chuckled. "Probably comes from being in the military. Discipline and all that."

_Is she insulting me ?_ thought Liara. But before she could voice her dissent, Henell beckoned to both of them.

"We are going to access the mainframe," she told them. "Stand ready."

_Keep calm_ , Liara thought. _You are in the Heart Ruins. Savor the moment._

A light blinked on a control panel ; suddenly, something whirred within the ancient computer, and the sound and heat it emitted ramped up.

"It's a scanner," Henell and Liara said together, and instinctively P'lina stepped forward.

The light began to blink madly. A tremor shook the floor of Room 1 as something old and powerful stirred under them. Liara fought to keep her balance, but she fell like the others. Ancient lamps set in the walls all lit up at once, bathing the chamber in a dazzling surge as bright as the sun.

Then darkness was.

Slowly, crackling arcs of static coalesced into a sphere of green light, which hovered through the darkness toward P'lina's face.

"You are not Prothean," it said in the trade tongue of the Republics.

"I am asari," P'lina answered. To her credit, her voice did not falter. "But my mind is that of a Prothean."

"Then our project has succeeded. Have you defeated the Reapers ?"

P'lina's face, haloed in the green light, turned toward Liara. "We have."

"You do not lie," the machine stated. "Your mind is free of the taint of indoctrination. You would speak to me ?"

"Yes."

The sphere came apart, and its light turned into a translucent green being, with a characteristic domed head.

"I am designated Veracious. I am an advanced virtual analysis system with personality imprints from Kserdic Devan, overseer of the asari elevation project."

Behind her, in the dark, Liara heard shocked or incredulous whispers. _Asari elevation project_ , she thought bitterly. Many of them would have not believed her until that very instant ; or maybe they had thought they believed her, but in the shadow of their heart of hearts something had refused to give way, until now. She did not envy them. That revelation was agonizing.

"What would you know ?" asked the VI.

"Er, Professor ?" P'lina called. "Lady Liara ? What _do_ we want to know ?"

Liara stood up, and took a step forward, into the glow of the hologram. "What is the purpose of this facility ?" With a flick of her hand, her omnitool began to record.

Veracious directed its cold gaze toward her. "This was the first of our bases for the elevation project. From here, Kserdic Devan and her successors coordinated with our other bases on the planet. It was from here that the modification and enlightenment of the asari race was designed and implemented."

More whispers, with gasps this time. Liara ignored them.

"When it became clear that the Reapers had arrived," the VI continued, "the overseer of the time preserved this facility by hiding it under a cover of soil."

_Until the nuns unearthed it, on the eve of our Stellar Years_ , Liara reflected. It was nice, for a change, to have talkative ruins. "Do you have any knowledge of a way to destroy the Reapers ?"

The face of the VI fragmented before coming back into resolution. "You said that the Reapers had been destroyed."

"We said we had defeated them. They are under control ; but I would see them destroyed." Not exactly true, but that half-lie would suffice. "Do you have knowledge of the Crucible ?"

"There is no mention of a 'Crucible' in my databanks."

"But do you know of any superweapon that could put an end to the Reapers ?" Liara pleaded. "Do you-"

"How can you claim you are in control of the Reapers ?" Veracious interrupted her. "One cannot control or trust artificial intelligences."

"The Crucible-" began Liara.

"You were supposed to destroy them," insisted the VI. "You were supposed to have learned from us, to be better than us. Stronger." The floor of Room 1 began to quake. "Delete everything you have on this base !" Veracious ordered. " _Delete it !_ "

Liara struggled to stay standing. "Please !" she cried out. "Please…"

"You have forsworn your right to speak !" barked the VI, revulsion stark on its face. "Begone !"

The hologram blinked out, leaving its silhouette impressed in Liara's eyes. When it had faded, she was left in the dark.

* * *

"We need to talk to it again," Liara demanded as Professor Henell got out of the Heart Ruins.

Henell considered her in silence for a few seconds. "You heard it as well as I did…" she said carefully. "It doesn't know anything about the Crucible. If it had any knowledge of any Reaper-killer, it would be more than happy to tell us about it."

"I disagree." Liara moved forward, impinging on Henell's personal space. "Its story does not make sense. What was so important about this base that the Protheans sought to preserve it from the Reapers ? It would have been simpler to destroy it."

"Doctor T'Soni…" Henell began.

" _Why_ did Veracious insist that we delete the existence of the Heart Ruins from our databases," Liara continued, "unless there is something essential or precious that is hidden there ? There _must_ be something in there that the Reapers would not want us to have !"

"But it won't talk to us," P'lina argued as she extracted herself from the aperture. 

"It won't talk to me or you," Liara countered. "Perhaps a living, breathing Prothean will have better results."

P'lina arched her brow. "As with Ilos ?"

Liara winced. Ilos had not yielded anything, and most of their hopes had lain there. It was the research world of the Protheans after all. "Vigil, the VI on Ilos, had decayed completely. Veracious is active. The situation is completely different !"

"There is nothing we can do for now," Henell intervened. "The hour is late. It is best if we sup and retire for the night."

Liara could not believe her ears. " _Professor_ -" 

"Doctor T'Soni. If you have any idea on _how_ to proceed with your plan, I will gladly hear it." When Liara did not answer, Henell nodded and walked away.

Liara returned to the monastery in a daze. How could someone like Henell commit the same mistake again ? Had not everyone suffered enough the first time ? It was maddening, to potentially be this close to Shepard's salvation, and to once more be unable to do anything about it. How could she… How could she… How could she… ran the litany in her mind. How _could_ Liara discover the secrets of Veracious ?

She _had_ to free Shepard. She had to save _everyone_.

The entire galaxy depended on her.

Of course, the entire galaxy might not want to be saved, thought Liara as she became uncomfortably aware of the stares of the nuns when she entered the refectory. Suddenly she felt awkward and ashamed and like the child she used to be, surrounded by other children who did not know what to make of her - but she savagely squashed that feeling. They may think her horrendous, so be it. She did not want to be liked. She was right, and that was enough.

It was the hour of the evening meal, and Liara served herself some of the nuns' frugal form of sustenance, then seated herself among the archaeologists in the corner of the refectory most remote from the sisters. It was a vast dining hall, far larger than it needed to be to accommodate all the nuns ; clearly the order had seen better times.

Bannyn and Irana sat down on her left and right, while Delsae and Teresh remained standing behind her. Evidently, the nuns did not have a rule forbidding chatter during the meals, for the members of the site team were eagerly sharing their awed impressions of today's "extraordinary events." For her part, she was merely … weary.

_When has this become my life ?_ thought Liara. _For them the apparition of Veracious was something they could barely imagine ; but it is banal to me._

"I still can't believe it," said an asari with intricate black tattoos on her brow and her throat. "This has to be a mistake. Or a nightmare. ' _Asari elevation project._ '"

"It has to be the government's fault," retorted another with a bark in her voice. "They must have known. They lied to us, again !"

"Look at it this way," offered one of the salarian photographers, puffing on his cigarette. "According to _Journeys with the Prothean_ , the Protheans disregarded my own people, and hunted and ate my ancestors like some sort of non-thinking animals. You were special in their eyes."

"But all we are, everything we thought of as our own," continued a third asari with no markings save for magenta lines on the edge of her eyelids, "it was a fabrication ! It _is_ a lie ! How can we go on, when we know that our achievements were for nothing ? What's the point when we are dancing on their strings ?"

"That is simply not true," Treeya intervened. "When one of us commits a crime, do we place the mother in jail ? I have worked hard to earn my doctorate in anthropology ; should my diploma have been awarded to my parents ? Our predecessors shape us, we knew this long before the discoveries of Doctor T'Soni ; but every one of us carries the burden of choice."

"That's one way of looking at it," came Lieutenant P'lina's voice behind Liara. "We know the Protheans were the shepherds of the galaxy, and that we - the asari - were their chosen people ; why not claim our due ? As the heirs of the Protheans, is it not up to us to assume their mantle of responsibility ?"

This elicited stunned silence at their tables ; Liara was the only one who did not turn to look at P'lina. 

Yet the silence was quickly broken.

"You are a Schismatic !" spat Audwin. "This one will not allow you to soil your own breath with blasphemies ! The Enkindlers elevated all of us, because they would not leave anyone behind on the day of the coming ascension-"

"You will find, jelly, that these are extraordinary times, for these days 'blasphemy' often rhymes with 'truth'," P'lina interrupted it. "Wouldn't you agree, Lady Liara ?"

All eyes pivoted toward Liara. She dabbed her lips with her napkin, and turned back to face P'lina. "What is your meaning, Lieutenant ?" she asked delicately.

"You, better than anyone, know what the old way cost us. Don't you agree that the asari need to be strong ?"

"I take it," Liara said, "that, for you, we died in the billions because we were weak ?"

"Precisely."

"Strangely enough, my belief is entirely different from yours," Liara continued with an even voice. "I remember that the leadership of the Republics thought they knew better than everyone else, including the people they were sworn to serve, and thought that we didn't need anyone else nor did we have to concern ourselves with the suffering of others. We began to win when we wholeheartedly joined the cause of Commander Shepard, though it took the Fall of Thessia. I may be mistaken ; but, like you said, I do know better than anyone."

Someone laughed, but P'lina's face did not so much as twitch. "So your understanding of the War is that we need to spend resources on others, even if it should deprive our daughters of what they have earned by right of blood ?"

_Asari must come first_ , Liara thought bitterly. She wanted to howl and rage at P'lina's stupidity. "My understanding of the War is that we are stronger together. Surely you can't have failed to notice," Liara said, "that the strong Protheans are all dead, while we still live ?"

Those around P'lina smirked and nodded silently, but the lieutenant ignored them. "Your father would not agree with you."

_How elegant._ In a single blow, P'lina was reminding their audience of Liara's dubious parentage and undermining her by appealing to the authority of an asari matriarch. A few years ago, Liara would have risen at the bait and headbutted her opponent ; but now she was, if not wiser, at least better at self-control. "My father's opinions are her own," said Liara, "although I doubt, speaking as someone who knows her well, that she would rule out cooperation, kindness and sisterhood. I must say, however, that Matriarch Aethyta's opinions are not yours as well ; she merely wants the asari to be self-reliant. Her definition of strength does not extend to the notion that we should enforce asari supremacy over others."

"Even in the name of peace and justice ?" argued P'lina.

Those around her squirmed, and tried to physically distance themselves from her.

"I do not see justice in the weight of the yoke," Liara replied.

P'lina considered her in silence for a few seconds, then laughed. "Very well, Lady Liara, I can see when I am defeated. We will agree to disagree."

"No," Liara said. "Not even that."

It was her turn now to make those around her uncomfortable, but Treeya had the presence of mind to clear her throat in order to change the subject. "Could someone hand me the honey marinade ?"

Various conversations were quickly kindled, but the tension lingered. Liara turned her back to P'lina, and resumed her dinner.

How was one to reason with someone who so deeply believed that some people - herself included - had more rights than others ? Why should she be debated as if the right of people to be as they wished was not an absolute ? Why should Liara and everyone else tolerate someone whose avowed goal was her intolerance of others ? Tolerance was not a principle but an accord ; once someone infringed it, they were not entitled to it.

Liara was so tired.

Strangely enough, even the War had not been as taxing as this exigent exercise in endurance that would be, in all likelihood, the remainder of her life. _Those_ were _the best and the worst days of our lives._

To think that, with the rest of the crew of the Normandy, she had been fighting this War longer than anyone. It was their efforts and their sacrifices that had been decisive when they had finally faced their foes over Earth, and triumphed against all odds. The people of the galaxy lived.

They'd won, but she'd lost.

"Who do you think will be the new salarian Councilor ?"

"Goddess, all of this… the Athame Doctrine, all of its dogma, its commandments, the way they believe divinity manifests into the universe… It's all lies, is it not ?"

"If Matriarch Enaeya is of any help, I am the Queen of Gataly !"

"Do you think there are Prothean legions waiting to wake up somewhere ? Like Javik ? Ready to conquer us ?"

"Can Shepard be trusted to rein in the Reapers ? Should anyone, even her… it… whatever, have so much unchecked power ?"

"We cannot remain powerless."

Liara agreed. It was pleasant to hear her own sentiment echoed by others. The more people became aware of how precarious their hard-won peace really was, the better. Hopefully, they would make the tough choices and dedicate themselves to the greater good.

A few seats from her, Professor Henell ate and spoke with her assistants, too quietly for Liara to hear her.

Liara felt the flare brewing in her belly, and only kept it from showing by the means of a respiration technique her mother had taught her dozens of years ago.

When the University of Serrice had offered to employ her as a researcher, she had almost turned them down out of spite. She had been sullied by the galactic academia for so many grueling years, and now the very same University that had once befouled her name and authority desired to take credit for whatever she unearthed - even now, the crude truth of it made her pulse quicken.

But amid her boiling anger, the cold, calculating part of her had agreed that she could gain credibility with those who were most wary of her by attaching herself to a recognized institution, and most importantly she could have access to sites that would be otherwise secluded. She had had nothing to lose, and everything to gain.

Besides, it didn't hurt to have another cover for her… fringe activities.

Again, the itch to access her network. Like the would-be flare, she pushed that down.

She took a look around her. Her people's faces were tired, confused ; their hands were dirty. The cracks in the varnish were showing. These would not be the ethereal asari of yore ; they would let go of the lies they had been fed, reclaim their rights, demand the truth.

_Or_ , whispered a nasty voice in her head, _they may just craft the truth they can bear to face everyday, what makes sense in their worldview, just like the young lieutenant…_

_Doesn't everyone ?_

_Don't you ?_

She ignored the intruding thought. She was not the monster some segments of the asari media portrayed her as, and she had no intention of becoming one. All she needed was to keep an open mind and to second-guess herself, always. Blind faith in herself would not and could not do ; she relied on the scientific method to correct her course.

Paradoxically, it was her fear of what she might become that would always keep her on the right path.

"Lady Liara," asked someone, "what do you think of what transpired today ?"

She smiled politely. _Consideration, compassion, humility._ "What do _you_ think ?"

* * *

When she had been a child, Liara's mother had taken her to many chapels and temples dedicated to the triune goddess, some of them triangular, some of them hexagonal, some with a devotional area on each side dedicated to each aspect of the Goddess, others with a central pillar carved in the likeness of the triple deity. She had seen Athame as a many-breasted goddess, or with three faces and six arms, or as a single gigantic person with outstretched arms circling the vault of her temple, symbolically embracing her congregation below.

This house of prayer was square, one side harboring the entrance. To her left was Beautiful Athame the Maiden ; opposite Liara was the Matron, Athame the Good ; on her right was Wise Athame, the Matriarch. Each aspect had an altar, candles, and pews ; each was depicted in the orthodox style, with eyes closed and scalp crests of considerable length.

She could not tell what had compelled her, after the end of the meal, to wander the monastery, alone. At her insistent request, her bodyguards had agreed to leave her on her own, as neither she nor them could think of the nuns as a threat ; of course, she had discerned the footsteps following her easily enough, but she could not fault her tiamnas for taking their duties seriously.

Perhaps it was to rid herself of her shadows that she had entered the chapel, where they could not follow without revealing themselves.

Her steps echoed in the damp air of the holy place. In truth, she needed time to think, and to consider her options. Right now, her best and only hope rested in Javik, for she wondered whether a biological Prothean would rouse Veracious out of its self-imposed silence. She loathed being unable to act and having to be patient yet again but-

There was somebody else in the chapel.

She was a sister. Slightly smaller than Liara, she looked at her in disbelief ; her green eyes were wide open, her purple hand poised over a candle she had been about to light.

"Oh," said Liara. "Oh." She stuttered something, then shut up, but the awkward silence was even worse. Reluctantly, she opened her mouth again. "I am sorry," she told the nun, "I didn't want to intrude… I'll leave. I'll just… go."

"No, please," said the nun. Her voice was surprisingly low, almost bass-like. She walked toward Liara, crossing the distance that kept them apart. "Do not go on my account. Do you need anything ? Can I be of service ?"

Liara hesitated.

On the one hand, she could very well go out and return to her tiamnas, her work, her worries.

On the other hand, this was the first nun of this monastery who had not been either cold or outright hostile with her, and she did not want to put off someone who, despite every reason she may have had to hate her, was evidently making an effort of friendliness.

It had been such a long time since a stranger had treated Liara with even a modicum of something other than deferential respect or hatred.

Awkwardly, she gangled over to a pew, and sat down, with no idea of what she could do.

She was put in mind of another such sanctum of devotion, where, Shepard leading in the front and Javik behind her, she crossed rows of pews to find the dead bodies of two asari scientists by the altar of Athame, as her world collapsed around her.

"What are you looking for in the house of the Goddess ?" the nun asked her.

"Solace and solitude," replied Liara, words flying out of her mouth. "The opportunity for reflection and contemplation."

The sister graced her with a small smile. "Your steps have guided you to the right place. If you seek divine assistance, Wise Athame may answer your prayers ; for in her aspect as the Matriarch, she is the Guide - Peacemaker, Arbitrator, Soother and Soothsayer."

The rattled titles made Liara feel small. "The Goddess will not answer me," Liara told her. _The Goddess will not answer anyone._

"Then, if you would, I can speak to you and provide counsel. It is my duty to give succour to those in need."

Liara only nodded in response ; the nun's smile widened and she took her place next to Liara. "What afflicts you, my child ?"

Some part of Liara's psyche seemingly erupted in flames within her upon being called a _child_ , but she repressed her fire. It turned out to be easy, in the chilly dankness of the chapel. "Frustration. I am afraid I do not know how to be patient or resigned."

"Then you already see that, lest you can think of a course that will make reality yield to your desires, your pain stems from the point of view you have chosen to adopt. It is in your power to change your mind."

"How does one make herself believe ?" Liara asked the sister.

The nun smiled her enigmatic smile. "You must hope for it, and if it is your fate, you will obtain faith with the grace of the Goddess."

_Chance_ , railed that nasty voice at the back of Liara's mind. "What is your name, Sister ?"

"I am Sister A'ioa," and she looked straight in Liara's eyes, "and you are Doctor T'Soni."

_Guilty as charged_ , said a voice that sounded suspiciously like the Garrus of old. "So I am. Sister, I must thank you."

"What for ?"

"You have treated me well."

Sister A'ioa giggled lightly. "You thought what you represent would keep me from aiding you ?"

"So has my experience in this monastery taught me."

The wisp of laughter out of the nun's lips died abruptly, and she appeared for an instant to grow more compact, as if her body collected itself. She failed to hold up Liara's gaze, and looked away, her mouth pouting slightly, before turning her eyes back to Liara. "You mustn't fault my sisters or my superiors for their… disdain. It is only natural."

"Am I this abhorrent ?"

"Think, if you would, as they do. You're a blasphemer. A heretic. You seek the end of our religion with your findings. Your very presence violates our faith and our purpose."

"Whatever you may think," Liara said, rubbling her hands together for some warmth, "I am not hounding the Doctrine or hunting for more evidence that I would use against you. I already have facts. I have published them. There is nothing more that I would do to you."

"Are you a Siarist ?" asked Sister A'ioa. "Many Siarists seek the end of the Doctrine. Siari can't have 'sorted out' all asari religions with us Athamists still fooling around."

"No, I'm not. I consider myself an agnostic."

"Why ?"

Liara hesitated. "It is the only religious stance I can accept. I can neither prove nor disprove the existence of a Goddess or of… some divine principle. I am a scientist ; I am not concerned with metaphysics."

"There are many scientists who believe in something," said Sister A'ioa.

"I know. I don't."

Sister A'ioa merely nodded, and looked to the statue of Athame the Matron. _She can't be much older than me_ , thought Liara. In the cold, their breath turned into tongues of fog, gone almost as soon as they had been birthed.

"Thank you for your answer," A'ioa whispered.

"It is true," Liara told her.

"I believe you," was A'ioa's terse reply. "You do realize you are still setting out to prove that my Goddess is an invention ?"

"Does that bother you ?"

"I think…" A'ioa's lips pursed slightly. "What I believe is, the Goddess may have been a lie at first, but that doesn't mean there is nothing. Or no one."

It wasn't the same thing, Liara thought, to believe in _a_ goddess and to believe in Athame and the Athame Doctrine, not when the authority of the latter was based on the supposed revelation of actual divinity. _It's a fallacy._ But she didn't say that aloud. "You are the first Athamist I've talked to who admits I may be right."

"I remember, before the War, when a human scientist proved that the mass relays had not been created by the Protheans, and thus upended the religion of the hanar," said A'ioa. Her eyes seemed glazed by memory. "People always like to paint the religious folk as idiots or hypocrites, but I remember the speech All-Bright Olos the 10th gave to the galaxy in reaction to this finding. 'It is no heresy to say the Enkindlers themselves may have been Enkindled,' it said. By the Goddess, it's been years, but I remember it perfectly. 'It is their example of selflessness… of courtesy and willingness to share their gifts that teaches these ones how to live. To say there was something before them, an even more noble being, gives these penitents an even swifter current to ride, a greater model to which we can all aspire.'"

"Wasn't it an outlier, though ?" Liara asked her.

"That may be the case," snapped A'ioa with slight impatience, "but the lesson stands in the pronouncement, not its scope. I do not think science and religion need be at odds ; if the hanar can accommodate discoveries that displease them, so can we."

Liara was growing more and more uncomfortable. And colder. "Yet my findings… They are… They show, irrefutably, that Athame was a fiction, concocted as a means of social control. Can you truly believe at the same time two beliefs that are contradictory ?"

A'ioa shrugged. "The origins of our faith does not matter ; what is important is that it is true. As for why the truth of the Goddess was revealed to us by these means, I cannot say. Her design is ineffable."

"What has led you to choose this life ?" Liara asked gently, desperate for a change of subject.

"Oh, there isn't much to say." A'ioa looked away. "As soon as I was a legal adult, I embarked on an existence of babes and boozing, with the occasional bouts of merc'ing to pay my debts. There wasn't much meaning in that life." She looked back at Liara, and stars were kindled in her eyes. "One day, though, I passed by an old temple, and… I heard music ? It was on Athamesday, Her Day of Rebirth, and the children were singing… In that instant, right there by the column closest to the entrance, something shifted within me and I believed. I believed. I feel Her presence and I hear Her thoughts, and She has led me here. It is a vocation, a true calling." She wiped a tear in the corner of her eye. "What about you ? Why did you become a scientist ?"

"I… I don't remember really. I always wanted to _know_. To _understand_. I remember that I was fascinated by the mysteries of the Protheans, who seemed grand and wise…" Liara giggled slightly, the sound at odds with her chattering teeth. "I do believe that I began excavating my mother's garden as soon as I was able."

"Was she wroth ?"

"My mother ? No. She encouraged me."

"She must have been a good mother."

A familiar load weighted Liara's throat. "She was. Not perfect, not always here, but she was a good mother."

A'ioa squirmed beside her. "I know what befell your mother. I know who she was. I am sorry."

Liara laughed bitterly. "Yes. I'm afraid that, by now, all the details of my life have undergone the scrutiny of every denizen of the galaxy."

"I am sorry," A'ioa said again.

"It is the way it is," Liara replied, and she pulled out a tissue to blow her nose. "My mother died." And soon after, all the galaxy knew what she had done, without knowing that it had been against her will because there was no such thing as _Reapers_. "Everything she owned was confiscated when she died, but I found… She had a cache in our house in Armali, with her diaries. She thought self-reflection was good for the soul. I found all of it in the ruins of the estate, inside a broken wall. There was…" How could she say that Benezia had gradually stopped to write in her diaries as Sovereign indoctrinated her ? "The last thing she ever wrote was…" Scrawled on the last page. "It was a sort of mantra. 'Consideration. Compassion. Humility.'"

"Does it make you feel closer to her ?" came A'ioa's curious voice, cutting through the haze of grief cast, out of nowhere, over Liara's mind.

Liara swallowed. "I wish it did."

A'ioa said nothing when the sobs began to swell and echo in the otherwise silent chapel. Instead, the sister put her arm over Liara's shoulders, without looking at her, as if she was not sure of her being appropriate ; but as Liara sank her hand into A'ioa's long black sleeve, the sister relaxed a little. Concern chased self-consciousness off her violet face, and her hand found Liara's own and patted it. "There, there. It's going to be okay. Cry as long and as much as you need, you'll feel better afterwards."

"It's so stupid," Liara said between sobs. "It has been so long since she died… I ought to be better."

"It is natural to feel hurt over the loss of those we love," A'ioa declared patiently. "We only feel better if we forget them. But take heart."

Liara looked up, into the compassionate eyes of the sister.

"She has found her way to the bosom of the Goddess," said A'ioa, "and awaits you in the Halls of Athame."

Something sweet, until now long forgotten, seemingly shattered within Liara, and it felt like the sharp edges of that broken thing had lodged in her heart. _I will see you again with the dawn._ The burden of the words that followed, her mother's last words, rounded her shoulders. She loosed herself off Sister A'ioa's embrace, and wiped her tears, straining to regain her composure.

"Are there people who knew her well, with whom you can reminisce about her ?" continued the nun. "You must have sisters."

"I do not," Liara said, not meeting her eyes. This was a slight lie. She had sisters, on Aethyta's side. "There is… Of those who knew her well, only my father still lives." _And Shiala._ But she was not talking to Shiala.

"You are blood with your father, though you have not grown in the water of her womb," said Sister A'ioa. "Reach out to her. Remember your mother together."

"It's…" Liara sighed. Aethyta was a… complicated person. She seemed eager to talk about Benezia with Liara, partly, Liara suspected, as a vindictive way to do better than Benezia who had in all likelihood found the subject of Liara's father too hurtful to ever mention Aethyta's name. 

Yet at the same time, Aethyta was absolutely unable to say something sincere without immediately brushing it off with a joke, and that was when she managed to be open about her feelings.

"It's…" Granted, at times Liara found it difficult as well to express her emotions. She remembered, after Noveria, how she had walled off her pain, letting it seethe and boil over the brim and then one day she had talked with Kaidan, telling him stories about her mother… That was the asari way. But it was as well because she did not want to be a burden.

Liara's relationship with Aethyta was… Well…

"It's… complicated."

"Do you love your father ?"

"Yes," answered Liara.

"And does she ?"

"She does."

"Then," said Sister A'ioa with all the confidence of an actual priestess, "no obstacle can truly hinder you. For love is the most powerful of the fundamental forces of the universe. You _will_ find a way to each other."  
"I hope so," said Liara, grudgingly.  
Sister A'ioa put her hand over her breast, looking very beatific. "I know."  
"You _believe_ so," Liara corrected her, and too late she realized the words had escaped her mouth.  
Sister A'ioa smiled again. That smile did not quite reach her eyes. "I trust in the Goddess."  
_Do not go down that road_ , Liara's sensible self warned her. _If you argue with her, it only confirms everything she's already thinking about you. You would only show her you are an intolerant little brat._

"Sister," smiled Liara, "I do not _believe_ you are right. I may be wrong."

"Indeed you may," said Sister A'ioa offhandedly.

Liara's smile widened. "You may be wrong as well," she said between clenched teeth.

"Maybe," Sister A'ioa acknowledged. "I do not _believe_ so however. I usually am right."

Liara winced.

_"I usually am right" is the maxim of everyone in the galaxy, yourself included. Do not take it personally. Do not let anger overcome you. This is not Lieutenant P'lina. This is a simple sister, who is no one, whose beliefs hurt no one._

_She is denying the truth. The truth that I have proved._

_This is not a fight worth having. She is not your enemy. You do not have a duty to enlighten her. You cannot force her to agree with you._

_She is denying the Truth. I do know better. Why can't she accept that I know better when I have_ facts _?_

"Sister, tell me," said Liara with a saccharine tone of voice, "how would you define the truth ? What is the touchstone on which it is tested ?" Her culture may frown upon intolerance of differing points of view, but it certainly believed in persons who disagreed engaging, in a civil manner, in rational debate. She hardly saw how she could have managed to be less transgressive.

"Oh, my child," the sister said, "your question is arduous. I will answer only to the best of my abilities."

"Please," Liara told her. "I trust I have a lot to learn from your experience."

With the formalities out of the way, Sister A'ioa settled more comfortably on the decidedly uncomfortable pew before getting to the heart of the question. "I think that true knowledge is when this knowledge is in accordance with reality."

"Yet how do you part illusion from reality ?" Liara asked. "For surely, if illusion is what appears true despite knowledge of the contrary - like an optical illusion - then you need a way to distinguish between what only _seems_ true and what is really true."

"Or like the impression of the sun revolving around the planet when it is in fact the opposite," said Sister A'ioa, and nodded. "Of course. Though I believe you are interested in how I can have faith in something - _someone_ \- I have never seen, heard or touched, only felt in my heart ? I am sure you will tell me that, since one cannot weigh a feeling, my Goddess is only a trick of the mind."

There were two baits on the hook of this insinuation. One was the temptation to rise to the challenge and tell her that, yes, in a universe where there was no sure access to the truth, one _did_ tend to rely on phenomena that could be verified by anyone. The other bait was to take a well-trodden asari road and agree with her, lest she be offended, that materialism was crass, and thus concede that there was some measure of truth to metaphysics.

_Breathe. An atheistic position is metaphysical. You are an agnostic. You don't know and never will know, not while you live, whether the universe has a consciousness, whether there is a Goddess._

_But I do know_ , thought Liara. _I know that_ this _Goddess is a lie._ She _falls in my purview._

"Hardly," said Liara. "I think you should at the very least reconsider your position in light of incontrovertible evidence."

"And what makes you think I have not ?" Sister A'ioa's smile made it perfectly clear she would not abase herself to sneering. "What makes you think that I have not already been through my long night of doubt ? If I may, it is quite… _arrogant_ to think that you will put an end to this aeon-long squabble. Tomorrow and the day after tomorrow and for all the days till the death of the very last star, there will be others in our stead to argue about the existence of a Goddess."

"The debate between atheists and those who believe in something transcendental is indeed insoluble," Liara said. "The debate between those who believe in Athame and those who think otherwise has been closed, I'm afraid."

Sister A'ioa swatted an imaginary insect. "What others believe is nothing to us."

"But don't you care for the truth, Sister ?" Liara asked viciously. "I thought one such as you would value it."

"We all value the truth, child." The nun's voice was as cold as the chapel.

"Then is your faith so fragile that you would not even listen to those who disagree with you ?"

"Why waste time on lies ?" answered Sister A'ioa.

"Why are you indulging me, then ?" Liara said.

"Because I pity you, Liara T'Soni," said Sister A'ioa. "I believe you were deeply hurt. I earnestly want you to be happy, and I think there is no true happiness in life without the Goddess."

It was a little miracle that Liara managed to keep herself from saying or doing something extremely stupid. "I see," was all she said. "I see." Was it what she was trying to do to Sister A'ioa ? "Enlighten" her, "free" her ? _No, this isn't about her. It's not even about the Goddess. This is about the truth, about the legitimacy of science._ For some reason, she was reminded of Shepard talking about "dinosaurs" and vaccines. "I see," she said again. "Sister, what of science ?"

"Science ?" repeated Sister A'ioa. "It is a tool, nothing more. There is no morality to a hammer, no way to know whether it will swing to mend or harm besides trying to orient the hand that wields it."

"I do agree with you on this point," Liara confessed. "Science isn't a moral system. It doesn't concern itself with absolutes, it's not its place." She smiled. "Do you know what is _great_ about science ?"

"I'm sure you are about to tell me," sighed Sister A'ioa.

"Falsifiability."

"Which is ?"

"Well," and Liara felt an unusual flush of delight creeping up her neck, "falsifiability is the means by which we test what we think of as knowledge to see if it is true. There is no such thing as an objective scientist, one who theorizes about the essence or causes of things without any sort of prejudices. Would you agree ?"

"Yes," said Sister A'ioa, who shrugged. "I do believe that. There is ample evidence of this wherever one looks."

"Therefore," Liara continued, ignoring her, "in light of this knowledge, if one makes a statement on the nature of reality, it is their duty to try to disprove it. One can always come forward with a proof of something ; it's only by seeking to _disprove_ the existence of an entity or force or law that one can demonstrate their non-existence. Those attempts to debunk a hypothesis are the key, because they let us know for certain some things are false. This is falsification. This is what determines whether a statement or hypothesis or theory is scientific. One needs to embrace _doubt_ and put one's dearest beliefs to the test."

"Doubt ?" Sister A'ioa repeated. "But you do not doubt that you are right. You cling to what you yourself call 'theories' as if they were true."

"Ah," said Liara, "but theories are the highest order of scientific explanations. They assemble laws, that is to say the description of phenomena, and they have borne the brunt of our attempts to falsify them and come out of the other side with us failing to think of any new other way to refine them. There may come a day when a theory is disproved, but that is highly unlikely. And even if a given theory was disconfirmed ? It would not matter. A scientific mindset is the willingness to always be ready to revise our belief in the light of new evidence, new phenomena. We do not cling to beliefs because we like them."

"Unlike myself ?" Sister A'ioa remarked morosely.

Liara did not answer. 

"You speak of doubt," Sister A'ioa continued, "you praise it, but scientists such as yourself operate on faith. You have faith that your observations are true-"

"I do," said Liara, "if I can reproduce such phenomena."

Sister A'ioa raised her hand as if to stop her. "Please let me continue. What, then, of arguments such as the Great Simulation Hypothesis ?"

"Unfalsifiable," said Liara, "therefore metaphysical, therefore not of scientific concern."

"What of axioms ?"

"If they are wrong, then their falsity will eventually appear in the open because we can only build contradictory theories off of them."

"You are assuming," said Sister A'ioa, "that the universe is inherently not self-contradictory."

"Since no one can disprove that, until proof of the contrary then yes, this is my basic assumption." Should she get into the Incompleteness Theorem ? That was hardly the time and place to get into its numerous implications.

"You are also assuming that everything can be talked about and tidied up into neat little boxes," Sister A'ioa told her. "Some might call that 'logical optimism'."

Was this a reference to a philosopher ? Liara did not know. "It is another necessary assumption, because otherwise we wouldn't be able to talk at all. In any case, a scientific discourse's ability to correctly predict the reproductible creation of new phenomena in certain conditions is another measure of its degree of verisimilitude. Sister, why are you telling me this ?" she asked. "You believe in a Goddess and other such absolutes ; for some reason you do not strike me as someone who would be doubting the ability of mindbeings to enunciate true statements."

"I am merely _testing_ your assumptions, using terms you recognize," answered Sister A'ioa. "I doubt you would acknowledge any other sort of argument."

Moved by mercy, Liara almost chose to let that one pass.

But she changed her mind.

"Why should I ? There were primitive ways to grasp and glean and glimpse the truth before the discovery of the scientific method. Why should I discount the merits of a way of thinking that has proved again and again its worth ? What has your system of belief got to show for itself, Sister ?"

"The grace of happiness," said the sister, "that comes from knowing you are loved unconditionally. Beauty. Worth. Morality most of all, the way to distinguish between good and evil."

"Morality ?" Liara scoffed.

"Yes, something your science sorely lacks. Think of the tools of destruction wrought, on every world of this galaxy, by science. Look on the Reapers !"

Liara smirked. "What makes you think those responsible for these horrors were not Goddess-fearing people ? As you have yourself noted, the two are not incompatible !"

"Lady Liara ?" came Bannyn's voice. The tiamna had opened the doors of the chapel and was watching them strenuously. "I heard you shouting. Is everything alright ?"

"Oh," said Liara, and she felt her scalp-crests heat up with embarrassment. A quick glance at Sister A'ioa revealed that the nun was also looking mortified. "Yes. Yes, tiamna, everything is… alright."

"Yes, everything is swell," the sister confirmed.

Bannyn's eyes narrowed, and the blue glow of biotics began to shine over the minute scales of her skin. "Is this person bothering you, milady ?"

Oh, by the Goddess, an incident would not do, not here, not now. "Yes Bannyn. Stand down."

The biotic aura subsided, but Bannyn remained. _She is waiting for me to use our code word_ , Liara realized. They had agreed on certain terms to use in various situations ; should Liara simply utter the word "splenetic" for example, any member of her entourage would understand that she was not at liberty to speak, and would act accordingly.

"That will be all, Bannyn," Liara insisted. "Do not disturb me unless I specifically ask for you."

Bannyn frowned but nodded, and closed the chapel's doors.

The sound of the ancient wooden doors slamming shut resounded thunderously in the icy silence ; when the echo ceased, there was nothing to hear but the distant and almost indistinct flutter of the candle flames lighting the three statues of Athame from below. Therefore, the noise of Sister A'ioa's hands clenching and bunching her thick black robes immediately drew Liara's attention and she turned her head toward the source of the slight noise to see the sister's purple knuckles growing violet with tension, and she looked up to meet the sister's glance.

There was nothing but serenity on Sister A'ioa's face, nothing that could lead her to presage a breakdown or a change of heart, not even the lightest hint of frustration that would have been creasing her peaceful face ; but her eyes were like flint.

"You can't change my mind," whispered the sister. "I have _felt_ the Goddess. She has _helped_ me. Knowing this, knowing this intimately, how can I not come to the conclusion that your findings are fake, or that the Goddess has contrived this way to winnow her faithful ?"

"But have you never entertained the idea that it is only yourself that you heard, your own strength that you found ?" Liara whispered back. "Doubt is everything, and self-doubt most of all."

"You will not hear me."

"No," Liara whispered, "because there is no way for me to go inside your head to see whether your feelings are substantiated. You may have heard something, or even someone ; but you certainly did not hear Athame."

"Why is it so important for you to crush my believes ?"

Liara winced. "I do not wish you harm ; I only care about the truth."

"Your 'truth' is wrong."

"It is not. It is the truth, and for this I'm sorry."

"Why ?"

Liara looked down. "Because it is painful. I have paid the price of pain as well."

"If you are set in your ways, then there is nothing I can do for you," Sister A'ioa said. "I admit it, when I came and sat by your side, Liara T'Soni, I was curious. I wanted to hope the best of you. But now I have seen you." Her words cut, sharper than they ought to have been. "You are not a good person, Doctor T'Soni. I would like to say that you are only a petty, garden-variety bully, but you are worse than that : you have influence, and therefore you are harmful."

Liara did not reply.

"I hope, I earnestly hope," Sister A'ioa continued, "that one day you will be touched by the grace of fai-" She gasped.

The world was tinted blue. Everywhere she looked, Liara was seeing shadows radiating from her, and the light she was casting was reflected in the sister's wide-opened eyes.

"How _dare_ you," was all that Liara could say.

She was careful to keep her voice even, lest she attract again the unwanted attention of her tiamnas. Nonetheless, Sister A'ioa backed away, shielding her eyes from the violent glow.

"Do you know what I have done for the galaxy ?" Liara said calmly. "Can you fathom what I have given to save it, what I have lost and sacrificed ? What have you done, to tell me what I should do ? Have you _prayed_ for the Reapers to go away ?"

She was barely aware that she was generating a great flow of air. One by one, her wind snuffed out the candles in the holy place. There was only her crude blue light, and the jagged black shadows unfurling away from her.

"What does your faith have to show for itself ?" Liara continued. "Torture. Murder. Tyranny. Mental fetters, forged in hate and tempered in denial, strangling the impulses of life. You speak of the Athame Doctrine as if it was a fount of tolerance, but who created 'paganism' and 'heathens' ? Who invented 'heresy' and 'idolatry' ? There has never been any legitimacy for what you did not recognize. The Doctrine has always set itself as the measure and touchstone of truth."

Sister A'ioa straightened, her eyes filled with hate, and she began to cast her own blue light. "Because our truth stems from _the Goddess_. Yet you object to this… dismissal of what does not fit into our worldview. How then, pray say, is my faith different from yours, which marks with a shameful brand of 'unscientific' what it does not want to consider or acknowledge ?"

"Because it _changes_ !" Liara said. "Science evolves and transforms according to new discoveries, as we are given the opportunity to doubt what once was thought to be irresistible. And what do you do ? You think that the quest for truth means searching for _anything_ that proves you are right, no matter how small, and holding on to that no matter what." The pews, which had been madly rocking for some time now, rose in the air, and began to revolve around the two of them like planetary rings. "You won't even consider that what you believe in can be wrong or modified because you have elected to think that the revelation of Athame is set in stone because it was supposedly revealed by her ! But even stone weathers."

The pews were revolving around the two of them faster and faster, and the eyes of Sister A'ioa had become two stars glaring with fury. "You will not blaspheme in this place, Liara T'Soni, not while I-"

"Blasphemy is a right !" Liara answered. "And truth is a duty." The ring of objects around her - pews, candles, lengths of scrolls and trails of dust - was turning faster and faster around her, and widening. "Let me tell you the truth. Your creed, as with any creed, even those which deny the existence of anyone and anything, have produced saints, and monsters, and ordinary people who are petty _and_ just. In the end, religion has little bearing on whether its adherents do good or evil. I cannot think of a more glaring indictment of its supposed importance."

There was a groan in the ceiling above ; an archaeologist's nightmare, the unmistakable sound of stones coming loose.

Sister A'ioa's light died, and she collapsed on the floor. "Stop !" she cried. "You are destroying the chapel !"

At once Liara saw what she was doing, saw and understood, and horror filled her. 

"There is no formula," she said, as her light flickered, "no easy way to know whether what one is doing is right." The pews and everything else crashed on the flagstones. Some of them broke loudly. "You can only… Goddess, you can only doubt yourself, question everything you're told, look for other ways…" Her voice had taken on the tones of pleading. "It is something… something one has to work for…"

Her light went out, and they were left in complete darkness, thick with sudden silence.

"Why should anyone listen to you ?" came the voice of Sister A'ioa, invisible, through the black expanse. "You speak in anger, and you care only to destroy."

"Because…" Liara swallowed with difficulty. "Because I am _right_."

The doors of the chapel opened slowly, letting the light in.

* * *

She had to explain herself to the Mother of the monastery, who, while supremely offended by the destruction Liara had caused in the chapel, remained calm and courteous, if understandably cold, during the entire exchange. Liara willingly acknowledged that she had done the whole monastery, and Sister A'ioa in particular, wrong, and she pledged to repair and reequip the damaged chapel with her own money.

Of course, the Pontiff and Liara's "superiors" at the University of Serrice would have to be told, but the local law enforcement agency would not be informed. In return, Liara was expected to depart from the monastery - and the Heart Ruins - first thing in the morning.

It was not strictly speaking the prerogative of the monastery's head to exclude an archaeologist from the Ruins, but Liara did not want to make a scandal by refusing to go away.

Another scandal, that is.

Sister A'ioa came forward and admitted that, while Liara's monumental wrath had been mostly unprovoked, she had, if briefly, joined in the biotic showdown and was guilty as well for disobeying her vow of non-violence. Her punishment would be decided later, in private, by the Mother and Father.

When Liara left the office of the Mother, she found four tiamnas waiting, doing their best to avoid her gaze. Bannyn was actually looking down. She had actively kept people from entering the chapel, and probably thought herself guilty, when she had only been following orders.

The worst thing, Liara thought, the very worst thing next to her own sense of guilt, was knowing she had proved right everyone who thought her a mere maiden who thought too highly of herself, a volatile upstart who should know better, bow her head, and listen to her elders. She was seething. She was angry with all these people ; but mostly, she was angry with herself.

By the Goddess, how could she have been so foolish ? What had possessed her to behave the way she had ? 

Anxious to avoid the knowing scrutiny of others, she immediately made for the garden of the monastery, and there she sat down on a stone bench ; she did not know what to do. Her fire team of tiamnas hovered in the distance, manifestly unsure of where to place themselves - possibly doubting their heartfelt decision to defend with their lives an archaeologist who laid waste to temples.

They waited. They waited for her to tell them what to do.

She waited for the situation to be undone so that it had never happened.

Surprisingly, this did not come to pass.

She was dimly aware of four new tiamnas coming to relieve the other four. She nodded when Bannyn came to excuse herself before leaving her immediate vicinity.

She waited again.

When she realized that she had subconsciously chosen to let enough time elapse for everyone to go to bed, so that she wouldn't have to cross the path of anyone, literally anyone at all, the night was deep and she was soaking wet, chilled to the bone by the rain.

So she got up. Her scalp-crests were somewhere between hurt and numbness, relative to the cold. 

She turned to her tiamnas, whose worry was apparent. 

She crossed her arms with excessive formality, and bowed to them. "Thank you, for staying by my side," she told them. She heard, as surely as they did, her voice's tinniness. "Now, if you don't mind, I would like to be alone. Would this agree with you ?"

They mumbled their assent in unison, and she smiled and left them behind. She was in dire need for a shower.

Her reason, somehow still buoyed atop her wild, swirling feelings, had been right : she did not come across anyone as she meandered through the monastery looking for the common bathroom. Signs guided her to the showers. _Or perhaps_ , she thought, _they know better and are avoiding me._ She opened the door to the showers.

Thankfully, they were empty. She would have slunk off to her sleeping cell otherwise. She checked every one of the stalls.

Having picked a towel, she went into the closest booth ; she locked the door, and started to strip off her wet clothes.

The water of the shower was warm ; she liked water to be scathing, but she did not turn the heat up, for fear of inconveniencing the nuns by taxing possibly antiquated boilers or unfairly increasing their bills.

She stayed like that for some time, naked, squatting by the plughole, feeling nothing but meager relief as the warm water cleansed her and reinvigorated her numb limbs ; it felt as if she had been mercifully reduced to her basest self, freed at last from her complex impurities. Freed from what the galaxy had made her into.

But the notion of the nuns' water bill crossed her mind again, and she briefly untwisted to stop the shower ; but then she remained as she had been, crouching and looking at the water circling down the drain until there was nothing left to see.

_Consideration._

A drop from the shower head dripped on her scalp.

_Compassion._

A drop fell from her eye onto the floor of the shower.

_Humility._

She cried briefly and silently. She did not feel better afterwards. She cried, until she heard the door of the shower room open.

She listened, her heart beating furiously in her ears, as the person walked steadily down the corridor between the booths, then opened the furthest stall and closed it.

When the shower started there, Liara relaxed. She did not feel like moving any time soon, however ; she would wait for the person to leave. She did not want to explain to whoever was in the furthest stall why she had been in a shower stall without running water.

Someone _else_ opened the door of the showers and walked in, shielded from Liara's sight by the opaque door separating them, the same way Liara was protected from this intruder's gaze ; and that new person walked as well to the end of the room, opened the door of a stall and locked it.

There was no second shower sound to echo the first, however ; Liara wondered whether she was mishearing when she heard a very low but decidedly sexual moan.

It was Bannyn's voice.

_Oh_ , thought Liara, and feeling extraordinarily embarrassed she dried herself as silently as she could. Her clothes were still dripping, and putting them back on felt like slipping into dead, discarded skin.

She heard another moan. It came distinctly from Treeya.

_That's new._ She took the towel - the towel did not make a sound -, she turned the lock - the lock did not creak -, she opened the door - but the hinges _squeaked_ , an ugly, prolonged, grating noise.

The only sound after that was the water falling down in the furthest stall ; but the mortification that hung in the room was so heavy that Liara could almost feel its weight on her shoulders.

She considered for a second speaking up to tell Bannyn and Treeya that everything was alright, but on second thought she would have only managed to embarrass everyone involved. And so instead she left quietly and sheepishly ; the door of the room had the good grace of not making the slightest sound when she closed it.

Liara trotted in the dark and empty corridor, leaving wet footmarks behind her on the rude stone floor. She found her sleeping cell easily enough ; her name was shining dimly in a holographic display that contrasted egregiously with the door of worn down wood upon which it was set. The small, bare room was uninviting, but one of the tiamnas had put her small bag on the bed. She closed the door, and tried to bolt it ; but there was no lock.

Frustrated, yet still dejected, she strode to her bed to check her duffel bag. The padlock was still in place. She breathed a sigh of relief, and entered the combination.

Her time aboard two Alliance warships had taught her the need to take with her only what was strictly essential. Thankfully, this included another set of clothes ; she disrobed again and laid her wet clothes across the chair to dry.

Somehow putting on dry clothes - if not exactly warm ones - was the happiest event of her day.

Shaking her head solely for her own benefit, she plucked her datapad from the duffel bag and crashed on the bed. The incident at the monastery had not yet become public knowledge, if the lack of results her browsing turned up was any indication ; which did not mean that nobody outside of the monastery was aware of it. In all likelihood, the intelligence agency of the Illuminated Primacy was busy updating their dossier on her this very moment. Damn Audwin.

She watched her vid interview with T'Kissi, and read the adjoined article. Thankfully, the reporter had painted her in a flattering light, although much was made about how "exhausted" she looked. She breathed in, and relaxed on her bed.

That had gone better than expected, and it was over.

She surveyed quickly the ways the political scene had shifted, or, in this case, had not, since she had sat aboard that shuttle that had brought her to this thrice-accursed monastery aeons ago. Uniting the Republics into a more cohesive, more defensible whole was a monumental, thankless task. Fortunately - as much as one could speak of good fortune for such a thing - the unprecedented scale of death in the Reaper War had convinced the overwhelming majority of asari that change was needed ; yet, asari being asari, the exact nature of this change occasioned torrents of debates and diverging opinions. Many Gatalians wanted a constitutional monarchy, a great interstellar United Queendom. She hoped it would not come to that.

There were matriarchs who represented her views in the online synedria and the assemblies. They bore her voice for her because they were faithful ; but if they ever strayed, Liara knew enough to end them for good. They did not know that, of course. They respected her. They trusted her.

The familiar itch, the hunger for a more detailed but less respectable source of knowledge struck her ; she forcefully pushed it to the back of her mind.

For now her representatives were doing their job exceedingly well. It was slow work, for one such as her, but one whose eventual benefits would be rock solid, a better start than the rotten foundations she had had to deal with prior to and during the War. And at least, these days, her people had regained enough infrastructure and logistical power to be trusted with the Reconstruction, which she now only infrequently oversaw directly.

In her mind was spread a complex web of needs and issues that needed to be addressed ; neither a pyramid nor a hierarchy, but a network, not unlike a mobile where every part needed to be perfectly weighted for the whole to spin harmoniously. Her central goal, the pivot of the structure, seemed simple : do not let anyone die on your watch. But the more she worked, the more it seemed difficult to achieve ; sometimes, someone even had to die for someone else to live. She did not like making those sorts of choices, but she would not trust it to anyone else.

And one of the crucial aspects of her plan, the fulcrum really, was to make people trust in her, because if they did they would not need to be manipulated through underhanded means to do what she knew was best.

Had she endangered it all today, in a fit of stupidity, by tarnishing her image ?

There was a sharp tap at the door.

"Who is it ?" she called.

"It's me," Treeya answered.

Liara sat up and straightened, assuming a pose that conveyed serenity. "Enter."

Despite her obvious effort to project detachment just like Liara, Treeya looked conflicted ; it appeared to be difficult for her to look Liara in the eyes.

"Hello again, Treeya. Please, sit down."

Treeya hesitated then chose to seat herself on the chair. "I wanted to talk to you about something, if I pose no disturbance. The hour is very late…"

"You can talk freely, and for as long as you desire," Liara told her, somewhat startled by her formality.

This seemed to reassure Treeya. "Doctor," she said, "what you did today… I don't know why you did it, but it was. A very bad thing. To say the least."

Liara sighed. "Trust me, I am aware of my mistake. I regret it deeply-"

"If I am to remain your acolyte," Treeya continued, and she looked at Liara, who was surprised to see fury burning within her eyes, at odds with the chill in her voice, "I need to know _why_ you did what you did. I have to know. Do… Do you hate religions ?"

The awkwardness of the question astonished Liara. "I can assure you, Treeya,-"

"Allow me, if I may," Treeya interrupted her again, "a measure of doubt. You have not… You haven't really been exemplary today."

_I really have not._ "If you must know, I do not. I believe religions, as with any other system of faith, are a way for us mindbeings to make sense of this strange and vast place that is our universe, and I can't hate people for that. I don't hate beliefs for being beliefs ; I think, however, that we can fairly criticize belief systems for leading people to do reprehensible acts, but that is far different."

"How should I judge you, then ?"

Liara shivered. "What do you mean ?"

Treeya laughed bitterly. "Doctor T'Soni, from what your entourage and I have gathered tonight, you have been extremely rude to a nun, possibly endangered her life, and jeopardized a chapel's structural integrity - and all of this for what ? Because she said something you didn't agree with ? I thought archaeologists were supposed to refrain from judging customs and mores that differed from their own."

Her words were fanning the dormant embers of Liara's wrath. "She… She…" Liara swallowed. "I have… inadvertently, yes, but conclusively… debunked - no - _disproved_ her religion, which was based on the notion that it had grown from the revelation of the Goddess Athame when in fact it had been concocted by Prothean imperialists in order to better manipulate the asari." She breathed in loudly. "You have heard Veracious as well as I hear you now ; you know this to be true. The Athame Doctrine is false."

"You don't regret it ?" Treeya said, appalled.

"I… I shouldn't have been this violent. I have let my temper get the better of me, it's true…"

Treeya shook her head. "No, you don't understand. Why did you even bother to try to convince a _nun_ , of all people, that what she believed in was a sham ?"

It was Liara's turn to be appalled. "Because it is _true_. I am _right_. You cannot deny that I am right."

"No," said Treeya, "but-"

"People need to accept facts. There is never an alternate truth ; it is dangerous to let people refuse evidence, even if it hurts. In this case, the truth is that her religion is a lie."

"Do you think that being right is the most important thing there is ?" Treeya asked her, a little blankly.

"Yes. What else could there be that is of greater importance than the quest for truth ?"

"Oh, I don't know," Treeya replied angrily. "How about making the universe a better place ?" Liara opened her mouth but Treeya was faster. "Tell me, Doctor, did you weigh the consequences of your actions today before you undertook them ? Or did you even consider that you may have been doing harm ?"

For a moment, Liara was too stunned to talk. "What do you mean ?" she said at last.

"Have you made the life of Sister A'ioa better ?"

"I have not made her happy, if that is what you are asking." Liara frowned, and used every fragment of her self-control to keep her biotic aura from flaring. "No doubt I have even caused her pain, but some pain… some pain sometimes is necessary. We are not only animals who eat and drink and mate until we are sated ; our chiefest aim is not pleasure. Would you truly have me believe that it is best to be comforted by one's own delusions because these make us happy, no matter what ?"

"This is not about a conflict between happiness and truth, as if these two were polar opposites !" Treeya said. She put a hand to her brow, frustrated. "This is about letting people come to their own decisions, instead of forcing decisions onto others. Do you think you have _convinced_ her ? _Persuaded_ her ? Do you think she's more likely to listen to you now ? Goddess !"

Liara did not speak. For once, she did not know what to say.

"Many people trust in you, Doctor T'Soni. Bannyn worries about you, and wonders what are the circumstances that might have led you to behave this violently. She thinks you're not taking care of yourself, that you're exhausted, overworked, and this is true. But do you want to know what _I_ am afraid of ? I fear that…" Treeya waved her hands around. "…whatever happened in the chapel, that may not have been extraordinary or out of character, this is… this was _you_."

"I'm no goddess, Treeya," Liara said quietly. "I'm a person. I'm not perfect."

"I know you're no goddess, Doctor, but you're _Liara Fucking T'Soni_. You're supposed… You ought to be…"

"I'm sorry," Liara said, and her voice broke. "I am sorry I have disappointed you. I am sorry I… I am sorry I can't promise that I won't ever let this part of me show through ever again, but on all that is right I swear, I will try." She placed her hand over her heart. "I must try, and I will."

"It's not me you should be apologizing to," Treeya retorted.

"I know," Liara said. "I will find Sister A'ioa first thing tomorrow - well, later today - and I will tell her…" What should she tell the sister ? A beastly part of Liara's psyche bristled at the very notion of allowing the nun to think that she was in the right in any way, but Liara knew now she could not listen to that part. To her pride. Shepard - or was it Garrus ? - had told her once that what made good people good was owning up to their mistakes ; Benezia likewise had said that the wise and the just only undertook a course of action if they were ready to pay the price, whatever that may be. Liara _had_ stepped out of line, and she needed to - she would - make amends. For her sake, and the sake of everyone else, she had to be better. "…I will tell her that I have been aggressive and… and inconsiderate. I have shown her a fundamental lack of respect."

This did not seem to relax Treeya. "You can probably do better than that, but… I am glad you said this. I just have one more question."

Liara cocked her head. "Speak freely," she said, concealing a sudden nervousness.

"I am a Siarist," Treeya told her. "I want to know if my faith and your… principles will inevitably strain our working relationship."

Relief flooded Liara's senses, and she shrugged in response. "I am indifferent to the metaphysical stances of siari, and thus have no qualms with them. I don't mind people believing things that may be true ; but you can't expect me to agree with those who believe in things which are known to be wrong."

But evidently this had not been an answer Treeya either wanted or expected. "You really want to change everyone's minds."

"I don't want to change yours," Liara said.

"As long as I agree with you." Treeya got up and bowed stiffly. "I apologize for having disturbed you at such a late hour. I will be on my way." She strode toward the door that would lead her out of the cell.

"Treeya…" Liara called softly.

The younger asari turned back to face her.

"If you are a Siarist… You know who my mother was."

Treeya nodded.

"Then," Liara continued, "you'll understand that I would be insulting her if I dismissed all concerns of faith out of hand. She has taught me better. I do know that we all see the world differently because we perceive the universe through the prism of our personal beliefs ; I am no different. I believe in many things ; I have chosen to impart authority to some things and not others because I trust in my judgement. I am just like everybody else. 

"My quarrel is not with faith. It is with lies. No matter how beautiful a lie may be, it is always told to master those who believe it."

Treeya was long to answer. "I see." Her expression softened, losing its mask-like stolidity. "Thank you, Liara. Doctor T'Soni."

Liara dared to smile, however faintly. "Thank _you_ , Treeya. Good night."

"Good night, Doctor." Treeya closed the door, leaving Liara alone with her thoughts.

She adopted the position in which she meditated, and tried to wrest herself from the storm in her mind.

Liara did not know which brute within her would triumph, the wrathful monster demanding justice, or the weeping beast pitying everyone - Treeya, Sister A'ioa, herself ; but they were tearing her apart.

_Breathe_ , she thought. _Breathe._

Slowly, slowly, very slowly, she felt her consciousness sink beneath the roiling waters of her soul, aware, but unaffected by, of the elemental battle raging on the other side of the surface.

_She insulted me_ , Liara remembered. _Sister A'ioa insulted me. She said… I should've told this to Treeya. She told me that I had been useless, that I was dangerous. That's what set me off. She said that to_ me.

_And was this reason enough to insult her as well ? Did you really have to loose your biotics, heedless of the consequences ?_ There was a glaring core of self-loathing in the eye of the tempest. _You are a child. You let your emotions and your pride get the better of you._

_But I am… I have…_

_There is work to be done. Veracious awaits._

_I am so tired… so tired of having to fight for everything._

_Does it matter ?_

_…no._

She could not afford to make a single mistake, lest her plans unravel. Not now. Perhaps not ever, not for as long as lives were at stake.

Such an attitude was necessary, but it was obviously starting to take its toll.

She was hardly sleeping. Wherever she looked when she was awake, she saw the ruins, gutted, amid empty streets - death and destruction she'd been unable to prevent. 

She longed for her world and her home, the way they used to be, the way they'd never be again.

All her fault. Had she been able to do more…

_I was failed_ , she thought, _and the galaxy was failed. By the Council. By the asari. By all of those who would not even acknowledge the reality of the Reaper threat._

And she thought, _Self-pity is of no use._

And, _Pride again. Do I really think that I alone could have saved the galaxy ?_

_Not alone_ , came another thought, and she thought of Shepard.

It would have been easier if Shepard was here.

_I will free her_ , she swore to herself yet again ; but the vow had grown feeble with use. She felt helpless.

Veracious was only the latest of the walls she had been bloodying her fists against. There was the loathing of the matriarchs. There had been the utter failure of the year on Ilos. There was that time she had been spit upon, or when she had first walked into what remained of her mother's estate, or when she had learned of Shepard's true fate… 

There was the horrifying morning when Javik had calmly informed her that overnight something had implanted itself in her left eyeball. Violated and paranoid, she had called Ashley and asked in a tinny voice whether she could be told of her likely top-secret location, because she needed Doctor Chakwas - either she could travel to them, or she could wait for them to be around Thessia, she didn't want to be a bother. Next thing she knew, the Normandy was careening down the sky and hovering over her house, and Javik and Lieutenant Cortez were shoving her into that old, familiar shuttle, and when the anesthesia wore off, Doctor Chakwas calmly informed her increasingly horrified patient that EDI, in conjunction with Tali back on Rannoch, had worked together to decrypt the bug, and that at the moment Javik was engaged in the process of single-handedly leveling the head offices of asari intelligence, and throwing around the implicated matriarchs like rag dolls.

"I am untouchable, Doctor T'Soni," Javik had told her later, with his characteristic glum arrogance. "There is not a thing they can do to me ; I am their superior. Besides," and he'd smiled his predatory grin, showing off his long canines, "I have let them live."

"Because you knew I'd disapprove of unnecessary lethal action ?" Liara had asked with a sigh.

Javik had given her a look of scathing, disbelieving contempt. "They are alive because I want your leaders to fear me, Doctor T'Soni. I have terrified them today with this display of my strength. But these… persons of intelligence," and he'd sniggered malevolently, "must know of my reputation. They know this was only a passing threat. And nothing I could do could fill them with as much fear as what their own imagination is conjuring right now, because they know the nightmare they've experienced _pales_ next to the worst I can do." He'd cleared his throat. "Or will conjure. They can't possibly have regained consciousness yet."

She'd chosen to ignore the boastful tone of that last comment. "Thank you, Javik," she'd said. "For … everything. There must have been more sensible ways to handle _this_ -" She'd pointed to her adhesive eyepad. "- but thank you, regardless."

"It was nothing, Doctor," he'd said, putting his hand over her own, which had somehow found its way to his shoulder. "I value you greatly."

They'd locked gazes for a while, until Javik ruined it by making a snide comment on her relative racial worth now that she was temporarily burdened with only a single working eyeball. She'd replied by poking one of his eyes. When Doctor Chakwas had looked at her with reproachful incredulity, Liara had told her that she had not poked any more because she would need the full range of his eyesight in the days to come.

Later, she'd found among the spam in her email a note from Kasumi that might have been a short poem commenting on the two of them wearing matching eyepatches.

In any case, that was the end of what everyone in Liara's entourage dubbed "the eyeball incident". The matriarchs in full-body casts did not sue ; the public speculated ; and Javik calmly informed her months later that there had been next to no bugs introduced in their home since then.

"In my 'anger', I have also 'accidentally' implied that you passed your mantle to the drell Feron," he told her, rolling all four of his eyes to underline his biting sarcasm, and in different directions to boot just for show. "In this way, I have given them a way to rationalize their dread. This makes for two reasons as to why they have stayed away from us." Not that they hadn't already been looking into Feron, who was well hidden on Alingon, but from what Liara gathered when she accessed her own network of spies, he had indeed become the likeliest suspect for Shadow Broker after Javik's "intervention". In the following years, the plague of bugs, thankfully, finally trickled down to nothing. 

And while Liara had no visible scar left by the eyeball incident, she was traumatized. It had taken months to go back to sleep, in her bed, instead of passing out of exhaustion on her desk at odd hours ; she'd needed years before she could relax in bed without succumbing to night terrors and waking up screaming because she'd dreamed a swarm of insects was hatching in her eye. Nevertheless, the hermetic sleeper pod remained more comforting, and she still had to take meds once in a while. Now at least she was back to regular nightmares about Thessia and the death of asari civilization and Shepard.

Four years hadn't made much of a difference.

Someone knocked at her door.

Was Treeya back ? "Who is it ?" Liara called.

"It's Professor Henell."

It felt like lightning had struck Liara. "Do come in."

Henell opened the door and awkwardly entered the cell. The very sight of her, her lined face, her blank gaze, what her existence and work amounted to… These were almost unbearable for Liara. Nonetheless, she deigned to smile. "Why are you here ?" she curtly asked the Professor.

Henell sat down, cross-legged, on the cold stone floor. "I… I wanted to talk."

By the Goddess, if she was here to talk about that blasted incident with Sister A'ioa, Liara would smack her. "About ?"

"I have come to… to apologize."

Solid seconds of silence elapsed, at a seemingly glacial pace.

At last, Liara blinked. "I'm sorry ?"

Henell chuckled half-heartedly. "I'm afraid that's my line."

"You want my forgiveness," Liara said, her voice slowly shedding her tone of incredulity. "My absolution."

"I would not phrase it like that," Henell told her, "but… Yes. I do."

"Do you have trouble sleeping at night, Professor ?"

"Liara…"

"That's ' _Doctor T'Soni_ ' to you," Liara interrupted her. "Professor."

"Doctor T'Soni," Henell repeated. "In the past, I have treated you unfairly. I dismissed your hypothesis on 'extinction cycles' as -"

"'…a tedious conspiracy theory which, while it masks itself under the trappings of science, is ultimately unbacked by any evidence and should be discarded and dismissed, as with all similar superstitions,'" Liara said, relishing the way every word progressively drained Henell's face of its illusion of assurance. "Or something along these lines."

"I am-"

" _Don't_ tell me you are sorry, Professor. It changes nothing. Had you and your peers even entertained the idea I might have been right, we may not have lost so many in the War."

"Li- Doctor T'Soni, you have to understand how incredible your hypothesis appeared-"

"How many dead because of the Reapers ?" Liara asked her abruptly. "How many have perished because we were insufficiently prepared ? Do you remember ?"

"I do," said Henell, and for the first time, she focused her eyes on Liara's. "I cannot forget."

"Nor do I. Unless you can bring these dead back to life, you will find no solace from me."

Henell slumped forward, her hand over her eyes. "Of course. I understand why you would say that."

Minutes went by. Liara watched one of her old inspirations trying desperately not to cry.

"I don't know if I can ever redeem what I did… what I did not do…" Henell said at last. "I've been spending the last few years here, the sanctum of all of our archaeological sites, trying to convince the authorities to let you come so _we_ might try to talk to the VI I _knew_ was here." She sniffed. "Wouldn't it have been grand ? If the Heart Ruins could transcend our horizons a second time ?"

_Compassion_ , whispered the voice of Liara's mother. "Veracious is the key," Liara said gently, with confidence. "I am sure of it. If we get Veracious to reveal its secrets, we may gain an edge over the Reapers, and if we are able to rise to such a position of power, then we can cow them. We will _not_ lose another trillion, or even a single person, to these machines."

"I wish I could share your optimism," Henell said, wiping the corner of one of her eyes. "But now that we've actually talked to Veracious, I am not sure it has any secret left to share with us… I don't want to jump to conclusions, and, in truth, I dare not hope…" She stopped.

Liara's biotic aura, manifesting the anger and hate screaming within her, was shining steadily.

"You do not want to jump to conclusions," she repeated coolly. "I truly am a fool ! For an instant I believed you could have learned from your mistakes. I _trusted_ in you again. But you are incapable of change, aren't you ? You feel sorry, but you will not adapt even if it means another million million have to die."

Henell only managed to look even more pathetic. "Doctor…"

"Get out," Liara ordered her. "And don't get in my way ever again."

Defeated, Henell mournfully got to her feet. There was something intolerable in her hunched posture ; for a moment, Liara saw beyond their common past ; she saw a broken old lady, weighed down by guilt.

"Was I this absurd ?" Liara called, with a tremor in her voice. "Back then, on Dretirop, all those years ago, did you lie to me ? Did you actually find me so definitively ludicrous that my word could not be trusted over a decade later ?"

The old asari looked so tired. "No, L- Doctor. It _was_ brilliant work ; but you were so young… What were the odds that this maiden would discover, thirteen galactic years later, the answer to the longest-standing enigma in our field ? Especially when all of the evidence, besides a Spectre's word, was classified."

Liara looked at Henell, with a gaze that would have pinned the professor to the wall had it been tangible. Part of Liara knew that this was not the whole truth, that Henell was making excuses ; part of her wanted to scream at the woman who had once kindly agreed to look at the outline of a young maiden's thesis.

The aura shimmering over Liara's skin faded.

"I do not condone what you did," she said. "I do not forget." Every word felt like a burning brand on her tongue. "But I can understand."

The change over Henell's features was immediate and breathtaking. "Thank you."

"Do not thank me. It changes nothing to what you've done." Liara passed her hand over her scalp-crests, feeling the onset of a headache. "I will need reports from you on what you may unearth here."

"Of course." Henell bowed. "Thank you… Doctor T'Soni."

When the door had closed, Liara expected to feel wrath, hatred, bitterness, perhaps even frustration.

She only felt sadness.

She closed her eyes. When had everything become so complicated ? She had only ever wanted to be exemplary.

She sighed - the only sound in the cell, so bare, so silent. The headache was here. If she tried to keep reading her datapad, her head might just split open. 

(Wouldn't that be a relief.)

Thankfully, she had brought a friend with her.

She reached inside the bag and took out the old, much-crumpled novel. Paper books might seem strange, to one of her fellow asari, but she liked old things.

She returned to where she'd left off. Chapter 17. The paper pages rustled pleasingly under her touch.

_"My judgement," he returned, "is all on your side of the question ; but I am afraid my practice is much more on your sister's. I never wish to offend, but I am so foolishly shy, that I often seem negligent, when I am only kept back to my natural awkwardness.…_  
Edward… She wished he and Elinor would get together, but she suspected, if only because she had yet to reach the halfway point of the book, that there were a great many perturbations on the horizon.  
She had read another book by the same author - _Pride and Prejudice_ \- and she had enjoyed it exquisitely, and this novel was shaping up to be just as good. Many of the facets of human life depicted within were utterly baffling to her - "gender", that utterly alien concept, appeared to have been taken to the heights of absurdity by humanity - yet at the same time, in some odd manner, she felt like she was warming her bones to a welcoming hearth. It felt, somehow, like coming home.

Her mother was there, in the mirror on the mantle of the chimney. She was there, she wore… a yellow dress, one of many such gowns she owned in this colour. "Have you been digging in the garden again, Little Wing ?" she asked. Liara wanted to tell her about Veracious and Jane Austen and what the other children had called her in the park but the mirror was cold and hard and she had no reflection, there was only her mother, and now Liara was falling…

Liara knew she had been dozing off when she was brutally woken up by the light rapping at her door. "Who is it ?" she called hoarsely.

"It is Father Adora," Father Adora half-whispered. "May I come in ?"

"Of course," Liara said, but before she could muster her mind to project the necessary air of authority, Father Adora had entered her room, with two steaming mugs in her hand.

"I am off to bed," Father Adora told her. "I have brought this to you."

_At this hour ?_ Liara thought to herself. "Thank you," she told the Father with a smile. "I am not sure I deserve it."

"Charity would not be named thus if it was only meant for those who 'deserve it'," Father Adora replied, and handed Liara the mug before drinking from her own. She looked… stressed. And worn.

"I apologize for causing you undue anxiety," Liara said quickly. "I am -"

Father Adora raised her hand. "Please. Let us not talk of this, or of metaphysics. No more."

Liara was relieved. "As you wish." She dipped her lips in the beverage, but it was too hot. Even the mug was scalding. "Why have you come here, then ?"

"In truth ?" Father Adora laughed lightly. "I am not sure. Honestly, the odds of your being awake this late at night were infinitesimal. I'd have thought you'd be asleep by now."

Liara bit down on the urge to tell the Father that she had been just about to sleep. "Do you wish to talk about something in particular ?" She didn't have to ask _her_ why she was still awake.

"I have come bearing but one question," Father Adora said to her. "Why do you seek the truth so desperately ?"

"The truth ?" Liara echoed.

"Yes."

"Because it can save us," Liara affirmed, without thinking.

Father Adora nodded. "That is what I thought - and what I think, too." She smiled enigmatically. "I won't intrude any longer. Good night, Liara T'Soni. Sleep well."

"Good night, Father Adora."

After the Father had left, Liara emptied the contents of the mug at a gulp, and returned to her reading ; but soon, exhaustion overwhelmed her, and her mind sank into darkness.

* * *

"Maiden," whispered her mother from above, the holy tattoos on her skin faded and distress piercing in her voice. Everywhere around Liara, everyone was dying ; at her feet were the corpses of two scientists, clad in yellow, and above the altar the statue shattered.

(She remembered the caring words of Ashley after the Fall of Thessia, and how they had been true, and how they had not mattered.)

The blaring of the Reaper horns was deafening. "Matron," grumbled Javik. His four eyes blinked in rapid succession. "How primitive." He looked down on her, literally, for he was as high as a mountain, as tall as a Reaper… There were shadows skulking in the dark. A'ioa was crying purple tears but when Liara reached for her she turned to ash. Glistening tentacles, pink and organic, erupted from the ground and lashed at her, strangled her. She blinked, and the hanar's tentacles were gone ; instead it was P'lina, smirking, her hands on Liara's throat.

("I've spent two years plotting revenge. Now I have the chance to make it a rescue.")

But the Goddess smote the Lieutenant and extended Her hand toward Liara's prostrate form. Strands of red hair enclosed Her face, flying like flames in the four winds. "Matriarch," intoned Shepard.

Her eyes were blue, so blue, like Liara's own. They should have been green… But Liara could not have cared less ; she was so small, she could have crushed her in the palm of her hand.

( _But I will remember and honor how she lived, not how she died. My mother was strong, kind, and beautiful. And now she is gone._ )

She embraced her, like a mother does her child. Liara remembered the meld on Earth, saying goodbye ; beyond the cloth of flesh, past the physical shell, briefly, fleetingly, they had been one mind. Now Shepard looked at her again. There were stars in her eyes… She embraced her, as is the wont of friends. Her eyes were filled with shining blue light, like an asari at war, like the eyes of husks… She shed her form, her individuality, and their lights joined together once more, until they became as one.

And Liara was alone. Liara was alone, looking from above the clouds at the ruins, monuments to the glory and the lives of the asari. Her head was so far above the sky that she could see every world, and every world was a charnel ground.

But even amidst the rubble and the carcasses of giants, there was still life, swarming, minuscule, complex.

_I will discover how to make them prosper_ , thought Liara, and she knelt and sank her small hands into the soft purple soil. _I shall dig._

She dared not look behind her lest she saw no one was watching her.

* * *

Somebody slapped Liara awake.

The first thing she saw was the two nuns - or, at least, asari wearing the uniform of nuns - in her cell, with guns.

At once this activated her fighting instincts, but her biotics failed to manifest. That, and her unusual drowsiness, were the second things she noticed.

Then there was the matter of her arms being tied behind her back, and her wearing some sort of choker around her neck.

She rated the haze over her mind, despite the obvious danger she was in, as the most dangerous anomaly.

_What have you done to me ?_ she tried to say, but only slurred, unintelligible speech left her mouth. It was like being very drunk. Liara did not like getting drunk.

One of the "nuns" smiled, her white teeth shining, lightning-like, through Liara's hazy consciousness. _If they're going to kill me, then there's nothing I can do. But if they need something from me, I can deny them that, I can make them wait for the drug to wear off if they believe I am of no use to them in that state. And then…_

"Doctor T'Soni. Lady Liara," said the nun who had smiled. In her state Liara did not feel like she heard her talk so much as she remembered the words being said at some point. "There's someone who would speak with you."

Liara fell down and started to convulse.

"Goddess !" cried the nun who had smiled.

"Get Father Adora," the nun who had not smiled ordered her. "Quickly !"

As the nun who had smiled hurried out of the cell, Liara continued her fake fit, then stopped and let her body grow limp.

_Father Adora…_

The realization sank slowly into Liara's floppy, sluggish mind. Of course. Had it been anyone substantial planning this operation against her, the Shadow Broker would have known. Father Adora was insignificant enough and sufficiently remote and isolated for her plan to remain unseen. Who would suspect a nun ?

An image of the hot mug came back to her. _Yes. That's how…_ she thought weakly, careful not to move as the remaining nun checked her pulse. It was easy to be this motionless, as passive as carrion.

_Why ?_ Liara was unable to think anything else. _…Why ? …Why ? …Why ?_

"You are faking," came Father Adora's voice in her ear. "There is no point in pretending otherwise. I know my sedatives."

Liara opened an eyelid, and let her gaze focus on the older nun's face.

She headbutted it. Her.

Somebody kicked Liara in the stomach in reaction, but Liara was glad. The pain was good - it allowed her to focus. Already her overcast mind was beginning to clear.

There were three other people in the cell : the two nuns from before, and Father Adora, wiping the blood from her broken lip, which she had probably bitten.

"There is no point in struggling," she declared. "It's still the middle of the night, and those who could come to your help have been drugged like you. Your own power will be of no use : on your neck is a mental inhibitor. Do you know of those ? They nullify biotic abilities. You are completely helpless, I'm afraid. You'll have no choice but to cooperate."

"Wh-" Liara was aware of her spit trickling down her chin, but she did not care. "Wh-What do… do you… What do you want ?"

"Sit her down," Father Adora ordered the other nuns. "She should be allowed some dignity."

The two nuns roughly placed Liara on the chair, which they turned toward Father Adora, who remained standing. "What do I want ?" Father Adora looked at her hands. "It's not about what I want - I don't want any of this." She looked down, then faced Liara's gaze again. "This is about what the galaxy needs."

_Oh, by the Goddess_ , Liara cursed feebly. _She is one of those._ "I assume that… that this… It's about the A-A-Athame Doctrine," she said out loud.

Father Adora nodded. "Indeed. It's about the revelation of the Goddess, which all must hear. Do you know it ? There are three cardinal virtues that guide us to do what."

"Courage is the Maiden's," said the nun who had smiled, smiling. "The will to do in spite of everything, and to overcome."

"The Matron's is Compassion," growled the nun who had not smiled. "It is the practice of thinking of others like oneself."

"And Curiosity, the Matriarch's," continued Father Adora, "is the outlook that makes one challenge their own preconceived notions. Courage leads to Justice ; Compasion, to Love, and the end of Curiosity is Wisdom. All three virtues must be together, like three sides of an equilateral triangle, for one to truly, really do Good."

"Fascinating," Liara said. "I assume y-you drugged… drugged me out of 'Compassion' ?"

The nun who had smiled had the decency to look down, but the other two did not look away. "Once," Father Adora carried on, "there was the rule of theonomy ; and where there was not, our ancestors tried to bring the truth to infidels with speech and swords and strength. But the leaders of our Doctrine in these olden days were corrupt ; they did not exemplify its truth, and for their sins their subjects rejected them _and_ the truth they had failed. This is our curse : for millennia, we have slowly dwindled. We have suffered two great blows : first was siari," and she sneered, "that unnatural religion which would see asari loving asari as a sin ; and then, there was you. And your book."

"Befo-Before you say anything else," Liara stuttered, "I c-c-cannot… I can't erase what is in the book. You are - you're - d-d-d-delusional if you think you can contain… ideas."

"Quiet !" barked the nun who had not smiled, but Father Adora raised her hand to silence her. 

"Doctor T'Soni has a right to say what she believes, even though she is wrong," she told the nun. "We have talked about this. We _will_ be civilized."

The nun who had not smiled apologized.

Father Adora knelt down in front of Liara. Her bones creaked loudly. "Doctor T'Soni. Your work threatens the Doctrine. If the revelation of Athame is silenced, then the galaxy will enter an unprecedented era of darkness. People will sin because they will not know the truth ; and sin begets suffering and misery."

"Don't you _trust_ in the divine truth to prevail ?" Liara spat.

"Oh, it will," Father Adora said. "Eventually. But these are dire times, times of despair, and the peoples of the galaxy need guidance more than ever. I wish only to hasten the Goddess's triumph. There needs not be any more pain."

"You're afraid," Liara accused her. "You think that… that maybe, after fifty thousand years, this is the end of the Doctrine. Maybe there is even… even a part of you that thinks I am right, that _knows_ you have been lied to and built your entire life over a _lie_."

"I forgive you for these words," Father Adora told her, serenely and sincerely. "I know you are confused, and because of your current predicament you wish to hurt me."

Fortunately, anger was whetting Liara's mind. "I'll ask you again : what do you want from me ?"

"Three things," Father Adora said. "You will tell me how to cleanly erase all the data left by the Protheans in the Heart Ruins. I will then dictate to you a letter, wherein you will confess how many of your claims regarding the Athame Doctrine were unfounded."

In a different situation, Liara would have laughed. "And then ?"

"I expect you to take your own life," Father Adora told her mournfully.

Fear, for the first time, sank its teeth in Liara's spine. "I assume you have leverage of some kind."

"We do, I'm afraid."

"Are you ready to kill ?"

"I am," Father Adora said. 

"Does this sit well with either of you ?" Liara asked the two younger nuns. "Would you truly commit the most heinous sin, in a desperate gambit to safeguard your faith ?"

"Yes," the nun who had not smiled answered simply.

"It is no sin," said the nun who had smiled, "if we act for Athame's glory."

"We have long thought over this," Father Adora said, "and we have come to the conclusion it is the only way. If we were to let you leave this monastery alive, you would undoubtedly reveal the conditions under which you recanted to the wider galaxy. I am sorry," and Father Adora smiled sadly, "but we see no alternative."

"You will achieve nothing," Liara told her. " _All of this_ is for nothing. There are other Prothean ruins, and all the proof against the Athame Doctrine has already been compiled and published. You are throwing pebbles at the sea in the hope of damming it."

"Perhaps," Father Adora replied, "but we do not wish to add water to this ocean."

"As for this letter and my suicide, no one will believe it."

"All the galaxy will," said Father Adora. "I have known, because of you, the long night of the soul, that which seems to never end. I know the trappings of suicide. They will believe what you shall write."

"You do not understand," Liara said. "I have many friends who know me very well. They won't think for an instant that I committed suicide. Eventually, the truth will out."

"Perhaps," Father Adora said again, "though I tend to think that the shadows cast over your death will call your word into question for the public, allowing enough doubt over your claims for the Athame Doctrine to persevere, until all the galaxy has forgotten about you."

Liara sniggered. "I'm afraid you are not thinking very clearly."

"And what do you mean by that ?"

"This isn't about giving the Goddess a hand, or the truth, or even justice, love and wisdom." Liara gave the three nuns a sardonic smile. "You're out for petty revenge."

"No, we-" began the nun who had smiled.

"Quiet !" snapped the nun who had not.

"I have hurt you," Liara continued. "I have brought low all that you hold dear, I have made you feel insignificant and powerless, and now you want me to pay, to suffer, to degrade myself ? I know what vengeance is like ; you are deluding yourself if you think you are on some holy mission."

"What you think doesn't matter," Father Adora said. "I believe this has been established." She turned to the two younger nuns. "Bring her here. And don't forget my equipment."

The two nuns bowed, and left the two of them alone.

Liara looked at the Father. "Will you really commit your immortal soul to oblivion over me ?"

"I was once a commando," Father Adora answered. She rose with some difficulty. "I have killed many times, and the good I did will not wash out the bad. There is no hope for me ; but I will bring hope to the galaxy."

The two nuns returned, holding between them a small, wizened figure, with a sock stuffed in her mouth.

It was the Mother.

"This may surprise you," Father Adora said, and she held out her hand in which the nun who had smiled placed a syringe filled with clear liquid, "but we needed, as leverage, someone whose death can seem natural. Our Mother is the oldest. It is the rational choice. It is the only choice you have left us."

The gagged Mother mumbled and struggled, and Father Adora put a hand on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Mother," she said, and tears began to pool in her eyes. "But it is the only way. You are holier than we are ; you would not do what is necessary." She turned to look at Liara. "I have even gradually poisoned her to make it look like her health was failing. My own Mother. Can you imagine ?"

Judging from her wide open eyes, the Mother could not.

"What makes you think I'd kill myself over _her_ ?" Liara bluffed.

"My acolytes have asked me the same question," Father Adora answered. "I have even entertained some doubts after your pitiful display with Sister A'ioa. But I studied you, Doctor T'Soni, until I was confident enough : you are, in spite of everything, a good person. You save people, and so I'm sure you will lay down your life for someone you only have disdain for but who remains an innocent. This is what heroes do."

Father Adora nodded to the nuns, and one of them took hold of the Mother's head and inclined it. Arteries budged under the worn blue scales of the Mother's bared neck, and Father Adora raised the syringe. "Let us begin. Tell me how to erase this 'Veracious', Doctor, or I will kill my Mother. It is up to you."

More than anything, Liara wished she had more time. _They can't destroy Veracious. I can't let them._ Not when everything depended on it, no - but the ropes that tied her and the inhibitor around her neck were painful reminders of her powerlessness and stupidity and for an instant fear drowned out her reason… but she could not let _that_ win. Though it was simple, a simple choice : either she did what they wanted her to do, potentially dooming the galaxy, or… _No._ What then ? What could she possibly do ? She did not want to die, she did not want the Mother dead, she wanted the galaxy to live. _I need more time. I need more time…_ But wishing it didn't help in the slightest.

Would it make more sense the other way around ? Agree, delay, let their plan naturally go awry, the Mother did not have to die… and then _she_ would die, and the galaxy would grow deadlier.

_It's a simple choice. Her, or everyone else._ Yet Liara feared that her sense of self-preservation might be making the rationalizations. What could she trust ? Everywhere she looked she saw no escape.

Who was _she_ to decide who deserved to live or die ? 

"I'm afraid you must make up your mind, Doctor," Father Adora announced. "It is death for you either way ; but nobody else has to die…"

Liara looked at the Mother's tear-streaked face, then met Father Adora's gaze. "No. I'm afraid not."

Father Adora frowned. "Doctor T'Soni…" she warned.

"You have enunciated your terms," Liara interrupted her. "Yet I am not the one ready to murder. I give you a choice." Icy fear coiled in her body but thankfully it did not penetrate her voice. "I won't do as you say - so either _you_ will kill an innocent, or you will not. It's your choice now ; your hand."

"Her blood will be on yours," Father Adora hissed.

"From your perspective, perhaps. But who is holding that syringe now ? Only you can stop this madness ; you must…," Liara breathed in, "and you will."

For an instant something softened in Father Adora's stony gaze ; Liara held it, and she thought she saw within a dash of guilt, and perhaps even a hint of fear. But the moment passed, and sadness washed out all other emotions. "I'm sorry," Father Adora said. She raised her hand, the needle of the syringe gleamed and Liara knew that she had lost.

"I'm sorry," Father Adora repeated, and she threw the syringe at the wall. 

As it broke, Liara hid her intense relief and terror behind a facade of authority ; her body was shaking madly, and she feared she might faint, or be sick.

_But it's not over yet._

Father Adora looked at Liara and this time there was nothing but hate in her eyes. "You force my hand. Since a single life is worthless for you…" She shook her head, and turned to her acolytes. "On to Plan B."

* * *

When they brought Liara to the refectory, she had had enough time to establish a list of priorities. Veracious and everyone else had to come before herself. She would hinder Father Adora's plan as best as she could, but she had to face facts : she was probably going to die.

There was always some hope, of course, some unforeseen variable, but Liara dealt in probability, laws, cause and consequence, and at present her model did not show her getting out of this situation alive.

It was not the first time she had risked her life, far, far from it ; but she did not think it would end like… this.

Could she, really, when they'd put the gun in her hand and place the muzzle against her temple… could she have the courage to pull the trigger just as she'd imagine her head explode in a mess of blood and brains ?

She was going to find out soon enough.

Ultimately, it did not matter ; not really. Veracious was her priority.

(She thought of her father, Aethyta, and of her friends ; and she knew, in a moment of clarity, that they all loved her unconditionally in spite of what she was ; and she wished she'd been clever enough to spare them more heartache.)

It would have been nice if by force of will she could have broken free of her restraints, or summoned her biotic power despite the mental inhibitor ; but unfortunately, such magic only occurred in children's tales, where good always prevailed at the end. No, her sole advantage, as far as she knew, was that when they would take her to Room 1 they would have no way of knowing what she was doing exactly, because unlike them she knew Prothean technology and circuit logic. Her best chance was to preserve Veracious's files somehow and to code something - a revelation, or a warning - that would lead the inevitable investigators to the truth. Not that she would really care about her revenge, being dead… but it would be nice, as she died, to know that she had triumphed over yet another foe.

Despite herself she had also considered… There was something that she still could do, something her captors would never expect. 

She _could_ kill herself, right here, right now. It would not be hard. She'd just have to bash her head against the wall. She could kill herself, and deny Father Adora the advantage. It would have greatly complicated their plan if they had to disguise someone with a pulped head as a suicide ; in truth, she was quite sure they could not. They _would_ get caught.

The problem with this idea was that they would probably panic and do something stupid, or at least even more inane than their current plan, and Liara would not be here to stop them. They could still coerce P'lina or Audwin or Henell into erasing Veracious. No matter the circumstances, alive, Liara still exerted a measure of control, which she'd surrender if she died.

Of course, this might have been her survival instinct talking once more ; but it did have a point this time.

As Liara was taken to the refectory, she could hear Father Adora, haranguing and growing louder. "…I hear you, my sisters, I hear you well enough ! But extraordinary times require extraordinary measures, and we must ward off the tide of blasphemy by any means necessary lest virtue be smothered and extinguished in our galaxy ! Any means neces-" But she was cut off by the clamor of several people talking at once.

"THIS IS A SIN !" 

" _The most hateful sin !_ "

"How do you think this is going to help our cause ?!"

"This is _wrong_ ! Y-You _can't_ do that !"

"Father, please, listen to reason…"

" _Enough !_ " shouted Father Adora. "We cannot sit by and do nothing ! Through your sacrifice we will erase this blasphemy and-"

This was when the nuns who escorted Liara opened the door.

Everyone was here.

Father Adora was behind the lectern, looking at Liara with annoyance, like one glares at an unbecoming intruder. To her left, still tied up but no longer gagged, the Mother looked small, lost and confused between two nuns with guns. There were other armed nuns, about fifteen ; most of them surrounded the entire archaeological team and Liara's entourage who were crouching on the floor, all of them restrained but conscious ; in addition, every bound asari wore a mental inhibitor. Liara looked on the faces of her tiamnas, of Bannyn and Treeya who were back to back, of Henell, P'lina, Audwin, her students, the salarian photographer, the asari with tattoos on her throat… they were all accounted for. The fanatics had not missed anyone.

Some of Father Adora's followers held a gun to the heads of a few of the hostages while looking askance at the rest of the nuns - most of them, unarmed - at the center of the refectory. A few were on the floor, oblivious to the situation, obviously praying ; a few others were standing, and had probably been those Liara had overheard protesting Father Adora's rhetoric ; the rest, seated in front of the bare tables, looked overwhelmed by shock.

It was something of a relief, albeit a minor one, to see that the majority of this convent had not sided with their fanatical Father.

"Welcome, Doctor T'Soni," Father Adora proclaimed. "I was explaining to my daughters-"

"Spare your words," Liara interrupted her. "Who do you want to kill this time ?"

Father Adora seemed to almost lose her composure, but instead she smiled beatifically. "You have forced me to opt for a more drastic measure." She raised her hand, which held this time, instead of a syringe…

It was a detonator.

"You will either comply with the terms I have already presented to you," Father Adora threatened her, "or I will destroy this entire monastery _and_ the Heart Ruins in one fell blow. My disciples have already set the charges ; all of us here - most of them innocents - will die… and so will you."

"I refuse to believe it," Liara announced. "You would not kill everyone you care about and annihilate your home, this sacred place." Her heartbeat was thundering in her head.

"You have left me no choice," Father Adora sneered. "You showed me you would let my Mother die, and so there was no point in killing her ; but I will bloody my hands and assume every _necessary_ sacrifice for the sake of the galaxy." She inclined her head. "Do you need a proof of my resolve, Doctor ? I can show you the truth of my words… even if it were to come to a _meld_."

"As you will," Liara said. "Let's not waste any more time."

Father Adora started, taken aback, and the armed nuns exchanged looks, and the unarmed nuns looked at her with wide eyes, and whispered.

Yet Father Adora recovered her self-control ; she handed the detonator to one of her acolytes, and walked to Liara ; when they were in front of each other, almost nose to nose, the Father placed her hands over Liara's temples.

_This is it_ , thought Liara. _My one chance._ But she quietened her mind, and hid her intentions behind a veil of blankness only lightly tainted by apprehension.

Father Adora closed her eyes. "By the grace of the triune Goddess I meld with thee, Liara T'Soni," she recited. "My thoughts are thine ; under a banner of peace, let us become one."

Liara did not deign to grace her with the reply.

Father Adora opened her meld-black eyes, and Liara closed hers.

It was only a surface meld ; Liara could hear Father Adora's melody on the edge of her thoughts, but neither of their minds had interweaved.

_Come to me_ , whispered the echo of Father Adora's voice. _Let me show you the truth._

Careful not to reveal anything, Liara's mind reached for the Father's and her consciousness began to sense and sift the other asari's thoughts.

Father Adora's mind was radiant ; Liara had not melded often, but she was surprised by its clarity, so different from the strength of Shepard's or the veils and layers of her own father's.

_Thank you, Doctor._

Liara ignored Father Adora's intrusive thought, and focused. _You were trying to convince the other nuns. To convert them to your cause._

_I love them. It would be easier if they did not hate me._

_And you would have me believe you would destroy everything and everyone you love ?_

Father Adora did not answer immediately, but Liara's question precipitated a cascade of memories : working hard in the fields, feet blackened by the rich soil, while singing hymns ; a companionable silence with the Mother, smiling, by a fire in the harsh cold of winter ; soothing words she pronounced to help a wounded sister as she bandaged her in the infirmary ; the endless acts of maintaining the monastery, repairing the roofs and the pipes by herself, sweeping the chimneys, killing the pests, swiping and washing the floors, cleaning and replacing the old glass panes, until it felt like the entire monastery was built out of her love…

_Yes_ , Father Adora answered, and her answer ringed with the gravity of the terrible truth.

There was no mistaking the will to murder.

_What are you…?_ began Father Adora, but Liara snuffed her voice.

Fact : all asari are endowed with a fine-tuned control over their own nervous systems. This means they do not need an implant for their biotics.

Fact : during the meld, asari join their nervous systems, receiving input from and sending output to each other. They briefly become a unified nervous system.

_By the Goddess and the Guides, by all that is holy, WHAT ARE YOU DOING ?_

Fact : because of an inborn condition, Ardat-Yakshi asari automatically ravage the nervous system of their partner during the meld.

Hypothesis : could a non-Ardat-Yakshi willingly kill another person through the meld ?

_STOP IT ! STOP ! PLEASE,_ DON'T -

It had been postulated, of course. But a great taboo surrounded the idea that something as sacred and as good as melding could be used by anyone for murder. Naturally, there was a lot of speculation on extranet forums on whether the government was concealing yet another hideous truth about the asari. Liara was about to find out.

If it was at all possible, she would be intimately feeling in her own mind what it felt when someone died. Father Adora's panic was already close to overwhelming her…

It was the only way forward. At least, the only way that she saw. _I'm sorry_ , she thought. In the physical world she could feel tears running down her cheeks as the hands that held her head shook wildly. _Had I been better, no one would have to die…_

Yet there was steel beneath the incoherent fear. Father Adora was collecting herself, and Liara was still unsure of whether she was doing any real damage. Suddenly she was pushed back and almost expelled from the Father's mind, but, unrelenting, she clawed her way back, striking blindly at her opponent's thoughts.

But now the Father was retreating, untangling her mind from Liara's, who realized - too late - what she was doing.

The meld was brutally severed, and Liara was dimly aware of Father Adora falling onto the floor just as she was similarly felled by the violence of their separation. She heard gasps before her head touched the stone pavement, then the sound shattered into silence.

Her vision had blurred, but nonetheless she saw some of the fanatical nuns come running to help Father Adora up. She heard the Father speak, reassuring them.

Liara had failed. 

Veracious would be destroyed, alongside its secrets.

She was going to die. 

Somebody forcibly pulled her up, and once more Liara was face to face with Father Adora ; her eyes were bloodshot, and blood was streaming from her nose, but otherwise she looked unchanged. She put the palm of her hand on Liara's brow. "I forgive you," she whispered. "You don't know what you're doing."

Liara said nothing.

"You have seen my commitment to the Goddess," Father Adora continued. "What will you do now ?"

"Cooperate," Liara answered softly. She had little choice.

Relief washed over Father Adora's face. "Thank you," she said. "I would have done it, you've seen it - but I would not have relished it. Thank you for sparing me that."

Liara was not so satisfied. _What is she going to do with the hostages once she's obtained everything she wants from me and I am dead ? If she lets them live, they will talk. Has she already come to this conclusion, or is she in denial over what she needs to do ?_

"MY DAUGHTERS ! REMEMBER THE TENETS OF OUR FAITH !"

Both Liara and Father Adora looked for the origin of the disturbance. It was the Mother who had thundered so ; but she was not done. "Do not be swayed by the words of this false sister ! She has reneged on every teaching of our Goddess, whose name she profanes by insisting she is doing Her work ! Daughters, tell me : what do we hold sacred over everything else ?"

"Daughters, do not heed her !" Father Adora proclaimed. "Would you stand by and do nothing as our faith, your faith, is trampled by unbelievers who would see the galaxy sin and suffer ? Will you do nothing against ignorance and want ?"

" _It is the sanctity of life !_ " the Mother continued, ignoring the Father. "I say to you, she who metes out death knows nothing of the Goddess."

The nun to the right of the Mother ordered her with a growl to shut it, but the one to the Mother's left was looking increasingly ill at ease, as were all of their sisters who had chosen to take up arms for Father Adora ; but the true change was among those who had not declared for her. Even those who had been praying or prostrate were listening intently to what their Mother had to say. "The false sister would be the agent of the Goddess's justice," she claimed. "I say to you, mortal justice and the justice of Athame are nothing alike."

"Yet they are not in opposition," Father Adora countered. "Are there not sins of omission ?" Her voice was steadily rising, calm, powerful, colored by authority. "Do we meekly allow the reign of injustice ? Is it not our _duty_ to help others understand Athame's revelation ?"

"But you would do harm." A nun had stepped forward. Sister A'ioa. "We will not do harm ; and if we do, it is always to prevent someone from being harmed by others or herself."

"This is my very design," Father Adora said. "Doctor T'Soni has stained our faith with her lies. But the situation will not deteriorate any further. We can take back control !"

Liara wondered what had led the Father to believe that she had agency, that she could, if she worked enough, suffered enough, wanted it hard enough, individually shape forces that vastly exceeded her abilities and power. The truth was the universe was a fundamentally unjust place.

_Despair breeds foolhardiness_ , whispered a voice in the back of her head. _One will do anything to alleviate the pain, even if the relief is minute. I should know._

"I do not like Doctor T'Soni and her… hypotheses," Sister A'ioa said. "But what will _you_ do ? Why would you disgrace our order and our convent with your madness ?"

"I am trying to _save_ us !" Father Adora shouted. "I am trying to save everyone !"

The Mother did not shout ; she whispered, and all strained to listen to her. "The false sister would murder for the Goddess, believing that the ends justify the means. I say to you : it is the means that justify the ends."

"Won't you shut _up_ !" said the sister on the right of the Mother, and she struck her ; the Father hit the sister in her turn, but it was too late : all the unarmed nuns began to angrily talk at once, and Father Adora's increasingly strident calls for order were drowned in the clamor. Some of the Father's nuns raised their weapons at their sisters, but this did not abate their outrage, on the contrary. A few took tentative steps towards the Mother, one even began to walk toward Liara. " _Sacrifice !_ " the Mother exhorted them. "We must be ready to let go of our self-interest to-"

But her words died down, muffled by the firing of the gun. One of the nuns had shot at the ceiling. Though the anger and the tension had not gone away, everyone was suddenly as still as statues.

Father Adora strode toward the hostages and grabbed one by the elbow before dragging her back to the lectern. It was the asari with black tattoos on her throat. Father Adora placed her open hand against her prisoner's head. "If you find yourself unsure again, Doctor, I will Reave through this Maiden's head. I will pile body over body until you are ashamed enough to finally do as you are told."

It was at this moment that the asari with tattoos on her throat chose to stamp her heel on Father Adora's foot. Father Adora yelped, unwittingly letting go of her hostage who threw her entire weight against her, tumbling them both to the floor. Nuns rushed over - both armed and unarmed - and the detonator clattered and rolled on the flagstones. Suddenly Krex burst from his bonds, shouting "KROGAN EXCELLENCE !". Several of Father Adora's followers were already scrambling for the detonator while fighting the other nuns, but Krex, too quick for anyone to stop him, charged in the fray, toppled everyone in his path, grabbed the detonator and ran out of the refectory, laughing all the while and with nuns hot on his heels.

At this very moment, Audwin elastically squeezed itself out of the ropes and, flaying its tentacles wildly, it grabbed onto one of the hostage takers and as it coiled an arm around her neck it coldly told the other nuns, "If you shoot anyone, this one will kill your friend." Seeing an opportunity, all the captives stood up as one ; some of the enemy nuns began to set them free, but others fired their guns and loosed their biotics upon them, heedless of the danger their comrade was in. Making good on its promise, Audwin snapped the neck of the nun it held and practically flew to another, whom it snared in its tentacles before repeating its threat. Now some of the former hostages, freed at last, were joining the fray : the asari unleashed their devastating biotic power, Jella had grabbed a gun and was shooting from the cover of a fallen table, Henell was leading a small group to protect the Mother. As Shepard would have said, it was pandemonium.

Father Adora stood still amid the chaos ; Liara ran toward her, dodging those who came crashing through her path. The Father saw her, and hate contorted her face. She raised her hand, and Liara was Lifted in the air, and with another hand Father Adora violently Threw her. Liara nearly crashed against the wall of the refectory, but nuns used their biotics to stop her in her trajectory and draw her back to the ground.

"The inhibitor !" Liara exclaimed. "Can you get it off ? I need -"

A Shockwave knocked them down. Disoriented, Liara struggled to stand up, but a Stasis pinned her to the floor. Just as she saw Father Adora raise her arms, something - someone - moved between them.

There was the blue glow of biotics, and a purple shower of blood.

The Stasis ceased ; Liara's savior fell before her.

It was the asari with tattoos on her throat. The Warp had shredded her midsection ; blood was pumping out of the wound, drenching her clothes, pooling under her. Liara tried to apply medi-gel, but the injury was too wide, too deep, and organs had been torn, she could see them. "Help !" Liara cried out. "Somebody help her !" Everyone was converging on her now ; she saw on the edge of her vision Father Adora running out of the room, but right now she did not care. " _Help !_ "

Someone gripped her hand. The asari with tattoos on her throat and blood trickling from her mouth squeezed it. "It was my honor…"

"Don't say that," Liara whispered. A tear fell into the blood, then another. "Don't…" She didn't know what to say.

"We will be better," the asari said ; and her hand slipped out of Liara's grasp.

All seemed to cease around Liara.

"It's over, Doctor," a blood-splattered nun eventually told her. "There's nothing you can do. She awaits now in the Halls of Athame."

Slowly, Liara rose ; she wiped on her jacket the blood that was on her hand, leaving purple smears on the white and grey fabric, and caught sight of a familiar hulking person. "Krex !" she called.

The student came readily. "Yes, Doctor ?"

"Take this off my neck," she told him, pointing to the mental inhibitor.

The krogan grabbed it cautiously and ripped it apart. Courteously enough, he sliced as well the ropes that bound her.

"Thank you," Liara said. "What have you done with the detonator ?"

Krex sniggered. "They'll never find it, not where I've put it. We're safe, Doctor."

Liara nodded ; then she grabbed a gun off the floor, and ran after Father Adora.

Blood showed her the way ; Liara was put in mind of another world and another enemy who had left a similar purple trail in her wake of destruction.

Nuns were fighting their own across the monastery. She heard gunshots, and a stray Warp destroyed a statue of the Goddess not two feet from her. Liara expected an ambush behind every corner ; but no one crossed her path, luckily enough - for them.

The trail was straight as an arrow, which indicated that it stemmed from a minor wound. _It was my honor…_ Liara felt some sense of detached surprise when the blood did not take her outside, to the Ruins ; instead it led her deeper into the monastery, into what were clearly the oldest parts. As she ran, she came by the remnants of a wooden door. Shears and spades and pitchforks had spilled out of the cupboard. _She is armed._

Not entirely unlike a predator pursuing a wounded animal, Liara followed the blood. _My friends_ , she thought. _My father. Shepard. I need Veracious._ The blood led her to a gaping opening : stairs went down into a musty darkness.

Blinded to hesitation or sense, she climbed down the worn steps, alone. Where they ended, she found herself at the crossing of four different corridors without end ; as her eyes followed their length, the galleries seemed to gradually dissolve in shadow, swallowed by the gloom.

Liara let her biotics and her fury become manifest, and the blue glow that engulfed her glinted off the drops of blood. Around them, the Father's footsteps had left marks in the thick layer of dust, as clear as if they had been cast in snow.

Liara followed them. Her quick footfalls resounded in the empty halls. As she ran, her light would repel the heavy darkness and unveil rows upon rows of urns, but then they were gone, out of sight, back into the dark's gullet. She kept running ; she only halted once, when she stepped on something and broke it, the brittle sound reverberated in the silent halls. She looked down, and saw fragments of pottery, a shattered urn half-buried in ash. _Cinerary urns._

As if in answer to her trespassing, the catacombs groaned and rumbled. Something immensely heavy had come crashing down, in the distance ; Liara ran to the source of the sound. The discordant echo lingered, until she couldn't hear it, supplanted by her breathing, the beat of her steps and of her heart, and her raging thoughts.

At last the glow of her aura shed light on the destruction. It had been a brick wall, and Liara knew this to be deeply wrong as she saw bricks within these halls of stone. Behind what had been the wall was another wall, a silvery wall of metal gleaming in Liara's blue light.

In that wall underground was a door, which had been forced open. Blood was on its threshold.

Liara forced herself to breathe slowly. Her aura dimmed and died. She expected to be drowned in darkness, but a faint blue light was coming from the other side of the door, framed by implacable gloom. Careful not to make a sound, Liara crossed to the other side.

She instantly knew where she was. It was utterly empty now, but the dimensions of the room had been forever branded in her mind. Of course, when they had first discovered it, the archaeological team must have taken pictures from the opposite side… from where blue light was now emanating, radiating from Room 1.

There, metal struck metal. Once, twice, three times. The blue light grew brighter.

As Liara walked across what had been the garage, the sound began again. One. Two. Three. With every hit, the light became stronger.

Liara darted a glance into the core of the Heart Ruins.

Father Adora was attacking the consoles with an axe. One of the ancient machines had already been reduced to a wreck. The Father's back was turned to Liara.

_It was my honor…_

The sight of the destruction released in Liara a torrent of hate, as if all the dams she had erected to restrain herself had come undone ; and the cleansing, boiling sea of her wrath, her stress and her pent-up frustration scoured her mind and left only the urge of revenge, the desire to kill.

_It was my honor…_

Father Adora had yet to see her. If her Barrier was not up, a single bullet to the head would do the trick, and end this nightmare.

_It was my honor…_

But she did not want the nightmare to be done. Not for the Father. A bullet would be too easy. She wanted to destroy her. She wanted to tear her apart, she wanted her to pay for what she had done, to be grounded and crushed and pounded, reduced to a pulp at Liara's feet and begging for mercy, the mercy she -

_Consideration. Compassion. Humility._

Liara sighed.

Then she put Father Adora in a Stasis.

Quickly, before the power dissipated, she hurried to the Father and took the axe out of her hand, before putting the gun to her head. "It's over."

The Father, of course, could not reply. The Stasis faded naturally, and Father Adora staggered for a second or two until Liara ensnared her into another biotic trap. "The authorities will be here soon," Liara told her. "Someone must have called them by now." Reflexively, she brushed dust off her brow, and felt the smear of a liquid. It was the blood on her glove. "You will be able to explain yourself before a jury of your peers."

The Stasis faded naturally, and Father Adora tried to turn and face Liara. Too slow ; she was enveloped in a third Stasis. "In all likelihood," Liara said, "you will spend a long time working to undo what you've done." _There's no bringing back from the dead anyone you've killed._ "Do you -"

The Stasis faded naturally, and a Shockwave violently repulsed Liara, who crashed on the floor, almost back into the garage from where she had come.

Her whirling black robes suffused with the dangerous blue glow radiating from her body, Father Adora turned to face Liara. "I am not surprised in the least to see you here, Doctor T'Soni. It is fitting." Orbs of wavering light gathered around her hands, and with her two mass-increased fists she bashed the nearest console.

"STOP !" screamed Liara, and with one hand she Lifted Father Adora, keeping her away from the ancient Prothean machinery. But the Father, not disoriented in the least by her weightlessness, stretched out her arms. The axe was Pulled from the floor and flew into her waiting hand. Liara shot her again and again but the bullets were deflected by the Father's Barrier and suddenly it was Liara's turn to be Pulled. As she approached the Father at speed she only had the time to see the blade of the swinging axe gleaming in the light of biotics, and her hands reached toward the Father.

Space distorted as a Singularity sprang into existence, answering Liara's call. Violently tossed into the orbit of the gravitational anomaly and circling each other, Liara and Father Adora struggled to break free of the pull of the micro black hole ; Liara narrowly dodged the blade of the axe, and she cast a Warp into the Singularity.

The biotic explosion hurled the two asari away from each other, each of their mirroring trajectories ending only when they met a wall. Stunned, Liara came to her senses only to roll and escape the bite of the axe ; somehow Father Adora was already back on her feet.

"How did you come here ?" Liara demanded. She shot at the Father while running away from her as fast as she could. "Why was there a passage leading from the monastery to the Heart Ruins ?

By way of an answer, Father Adora roared with rage and Reaved Liara.

"Answer me !" Liara commanded. She had to keep the Father focused on her, not on Veracious. "If nuns unearthed by accident the Heart Ruins twenty-eight centuries ago, then why did the garage connect to your convent ?" It was only a matter of time until someone, anyone, came to her rescue. "If you knew there was a tunnel, how can you even _believe_ for a second that my evidence is a lie ?"

"I… I did not know !" Father Adora said. "I read a reference, long ago, about a tunnel that the Pontiff had ordered sealed ! I came here, but I wasn't sure…" She looked around her, confused. "It's not… It doesn't mean…"

"Your order must have known about the Ruins." Liara was becoming sure her amp had broken when she had fallen ; her powers weren't as strong as they should be. "This passage is the proof that they knew and that they covered it up !"

"NO !" the Father shouted, and she frenziedly turned the blows of her axe to the central console.

There was a whir within the console and the green hologram of Veracious materialized. "Asari. You do not have licence to eradicate me. I am the depository of the knowledge that will save the galaxy. I am Veracious."

But Father Adora was relentless. The axe fractured a metal panel ; thousands of orange sparks flew out, casting long shadows.

"Stop this !" Liara shouted. She tried to put the Father into a Stasis again, but her power faltered. "You are threatening the lives of trillions !"

"You will cease your attacks," Veracious ordered.

Father Adora started struggling against an invisible force, and she was levitated above the console to be examined by Veracious. "You are not indoctrinated," said the VI. "Strange. Your apparel indicates you are sworn to safeguard this place. Have you betrayed your vows ?"

And Liara understood everything.

"Veracious !" she called. "What is this order of asari meant to guard you ?"

The flickering Prothean ghost looked at her. "You are recognized. You are the one who revealed that the Reapers still exist. Temporarily subdued, but not destroyed."

"And we need your knowledge to destroy them ! Please !" Liara begged. "We cannot win without your help."

"You will leave," Veracious ordered her. Father Adora was still fighting against its invisible grip. "Delete everything you know on this base from your databanks !"

"Veracious," Liara said, instilling in her voice every ounce of authority she could muster, "there are rogue members of the order who have set charges to destroy the base. If you do not tell me what I wish to know _now_ , the knowledge you have been tasked with protecting will be lost forever !"

The moment seemed infinite. Veracious' green form was utterly still, but for the rhythmical variance of its light. Above the floor, Father Adora was writhing and thrashing around, emitting a blue glare that was gaining in intensity as she struggled against her invisible bonds. _She can hear it_ , thought Liara. _She needs to hear it._

"What do you need to preserve the base ?" Veracious asked her at last.

Liara's relief felt overwhelming. "How did the order came to be ? What is its purpose ?"

"When the Empire abandoned Thessia," Veracious said, "we left a cadre of suitably elevated asari individuals to look after the artefacts of the base. They came to me, and they communed with the knowledge of the Protheans. In time, they formed a monastic order whose sole purpose was to conceal and defend the data."

Trapped in the mass effect field, Adora had seemingly grown limp as Veracious had spoken, and her light had faded ; and now, bathed in the Prothean VI's green glow, she was sobbing and shaking her head.

But Liara needed to make sure she wasn't going to try anything. "Veracious, tell me, what is Athame ?"

"Athame ?" repeated Veracious. "'Athame' is the name of the local deity Kserdic Devan chose as a guise to efficiently enlighten the asari. It was one of many goddesses ; with our gifts and the oracles 'Athame' delivered, it became a monotheistic divinity, as was our design. It became the principle of everything the asari would believe in."

For Liara, hearing the monumental truth a second time was chilling.

But Father Adora was wailing.

"Veracious," Liara asked softly, "what is the knowledge you keep ? By what means did the Protheans intend the asari to destroy the Reapers ?"

"The beacons," Veracious answered. It gestured toward empty space. "There."

Liara did not understand, not at first, but the truth gradually dawned on her ; and when she perceived the entire breadth of what had transpired here, she put a hand over her mouth, trying to keep the words of disbelief in and not to cry out.

"Thank you, Veracious," she said at last. "You can release the rogue nun now. She will not be… She is not going to try anything. Await further instructions."

Veracious dissipated instantly, and Father Adora fell onto the floor.

In the darkness of Room 1, broken only by the lights of the dormant consoles, Liara walked toward the Father's crumpled form. _It must be morning outside_ , she thought. _The sun must have risen._

Room 1 was illuminated by a blue radiance as Father Adora rose, axe in hand, and furiously rushed toward Liara.

Liara shot her.

The bullets met no Barrier, to Liara's shock. Instead, they found their mark, in spurts of purple blood. Father Adora collapsed.

Liara hurried at her side, and knelt down. She was still alive, but she had been wounded in the stomach, and Liara knew what this entailed. She tried to apply medi-gel ; but she had spent most of it trying to save the asari with tattoos on her throat.

Adora was mumbling something, almost inaudibly. Liara leaned closer to hear what she had to say.

It was a prayer to Athame, asking for mercy for those who had sinned.

Liara held her hand.

The Father died praying.

_No light ? They always said there would be-_

* * *

They were in Shepard's apartment, all three of them.

"Shall I deal you in ?"

Liara looked away from her friends, busy dancing to her right, to look at the one who had spoken. She sounded suspiciously like her.

Across the green felt table, there was a Liara seated to her left, and another Liara on her right. They were identical. Neither of them showed any emotion on their faces.

_Poker faces_ , Liara remembered. "What are the stakes ?"

"Why, everything," said Liara on the left.

"If you want to play, that is," said Liara on the right.

There was a game board on the table, a labyrinth of interweaved spirals. "What's the goal of the game ?"

"To reach the center," the other Liaras told her as one.

Her hand was not very good, she could see. She looked up. They had sat down on the floor of the Temple, before the altar. Outside the Reapers were killing billions. Although the other two Liaras looked the same, they didn't play in the same manner. From the way she elegantly placed her pawns, it appeared that Liara on the left had an elaborate strategy Liara had yet to discern ; meanwhile, Liara on the right always played her strongest piece, hesitant to make sacrifices but savagely matching her opponent move for move.

"You're thinking too small," Liara on the left told Liara on the right.

"And you're being too nice," Liara on the right replied.

Beyond the windows of transparent aluminum, the storm of red sand was raging.

What was the weather like in Vancouver ?

"More tea, Doctor T'Soni ?" Glyph asked her.

"Yes, Glyph," she said. "Thank you." She was somewhat saddened to see it had lost its little human bowtie.

It was raining outside her ship ; it was always raining, when you were flying in the twilight of the setting sun. Hail was battering the hull, and the deafening thunder of the ever-present lightning strikes managed to penetrate her quarters, though the distant rumble it had become in doing so was more reassuring than frightening. It made her feel at home. The screens had been turned off for the small measure of sleep and relaxation she allowed herself ; for once she had forced herself to cook more than the usual rations, and the smell of the grunnien roast blended with the fragrance of the honey marinade made her mouth water. _It's only a dream, though…_ she thought sadly. _A pleasant dream._

The Mother looked at her in disbelief as Liara said she would not die for her.

"We've been talking," said Liara on the left. "We're worried about you." Liara on the right nodded.

"You're trying to distract me from the game," Liara accused them. "You should look after your own frigates, or you'll lose your homeworld."

"She's not wrong," remarked Liara on the right.

Liara on the left looked at her pieces, and a hint of a frown showed on her otherwise blank face. "Excellent use of the Bay-Lucien gambit. Nonetheless."

"You have been taking risks," said Liara on the right. "You've changed."

"For the better ?" Liara asked her.

"You've grown numb to the pain," said Liara on the right.

"You have gotten used to it," said Liara on the left. "It does not sting as much as it used to."

"I have faith in my fear," Liara told them both. "Doubt will not fail me."

"Won't it now," said Liara on the right.

"Has it not already ?" asked Liara on the left.

There was always noise in Nos Astra. Even when you paid an inordinate amount of credits to have the best soundproof bay windows, the tremor of traffic traveling through the air still made everything tremble ever so slightly ; Liara could feel it in her bones. Still, it always felt good to be home, safe, sound, and at last able to place her false face on a hook in the shadows of her closet ; though, in truth, work was never off her mind. Had the batarians called her back ? She'd have to ask Nyxeris.

What was she talking about ? She had killed Nyxeris.

The three Liaras played without talking, shielded from the loud music of Afterlife by the canopy of their private cubicle ; only, the pieces were rattling in rhythm. One of them, the tiny statue with a red line on its pauldron, rolled off the table.

"What is this ? Are you the good and the bad in me, respectively, or is each of you an extreme between which I should strike balance ?"

"Maybe," said Liara on the left.

"Yes," said Liara on the right.

"No," they said together.

Liara's own subconscious being cryptic was more than a little infuriating. "You are being no help at all. What am I supposed to be learning ?"

"We're not here to _help_ ," said Liara on the right.

"You're hindering me, then ?"

" _You're_ here to reassure us," said Liara on the left. "We need to hear it from you."

"What ?"

"That you're going to be okay."

_For a certain definition of 'okay'._ This time, she was looking on the escape pod's screen at the Normandy, the first Normandy, being destroyed. Fires burned out of control, the hull was breached again and again. There were explosions. There were people screaming as they died. Liara on the left raised the stakes, Liara on the right followed. Cards changed hands. 

"Let's talk about your anger issues," said Liara on the left.

"Let's not," said Liara.

"You get those from me, I'm afraid," said Liara on the right. "Can't get angry if you don't get hurt, can't get hurt if you don't care."

Father Adora's mind cried out in fear as Liara tried to transgress the greatest taboo and kill her with the meld.

The three Liaras were in the chambers of the Citadel Council as Sovereign's remains crashed through the walls of the Tower, shattering the windows, rending the walls. "When you believe you're right," said Liara on the left as a torrent of debris fell behind her in a cacophony, "you plod on, against the force of those who oppose you, damn you, damn the consequences, damn them all. Even though you tend to win…"

"Liara, are you going to be okay ?" said Liara on the right.

"Of course," Liara. "I am okay. I don't know why you're so worried." She was stuck, that she saw plainly. The beads of Liara on the right and Liara on the left blocked the path she wanted to take. "Which way should I go ?" Liara asked them. Geth gunfire echoed on towers overgrown with vegetation, abandoned fifty thousand years ago. "What's that noise ?"

"What noise ?"

"Which way should I go ?" Liara asked them again.

"My way," said Liara on the right.

"My way is better," said Liara on the left.

_What about the way I want ?_ Liara thought.

"You don't know what's there yet," said Liara on the left. "At the end."

"Might be worth to take the risk," said Liara on the right. "Probably isn't, though."

"We need to hear it from you, Liara."

" _What ?_ " Liara said. "I've told you-"

"You know what you have to say."

The bomb went off on Virmire. She saw the explosion. She heard it, even though if she had really heard it she would have died. She heard it, and then she couldn't hear anything anymore.

"What do you want me to say ?" Tears streaked down her cheeks. "That I have always sacrificed myself first ? That since I met Shepard, the war has come before everything, before me, before what I really want ?" She angrily wiped the tears, but they came pouring forth. "I _know_ what I am," she said. "I know what I'm capable of. I know I might become… a _monster_. I'm so afraid." She sniffed. "But what else can I do ?" She placed her pawn on the last square, at the end of her spiral, at the center of the labyrinth. "I won."

She was trapped in a force field, deep within a ruin. She was alone.

* * *

"Doctor T'Soni. How are you ?"

Liara did not have the strength to smile. "I am fine. As fine as one can be, in these circumstances."

The previous day, which had started, heedless of the events in and around the Heart Ruins, while Liara was running in the catacombs, had been almost as exhausting as the hostage situation. Everyone involved, Liara included, had had to answer the questions of the constables, and there were hordes of journalists camping before the monastery and ready to jump anyone who had the misfortune of looking out the front door. When she hadn't been talking to the constables, Liara had helped cleaning the convent and taking care of the dead. She had fallen asleep as soon as she had laid down into her cot ; it was only this morning, at breakfast, that Liara had realized she could have asked to sleep in another cell, in light of what had happened in the one she occupied. The thought had not even crossed her mind.

She would be leaving in just a few hours. She was glad. The Heart Ruins, as with so many other things she'd once cherished, had lost their charm.

At the moment she was in the office of the Mother. Liara had sat on a chair on the opposite side on the desk ; Professor Henell was seated on her left. In a corner, the chair that had once been beside the Mother's had been put in a corner of the room, ostracized.

"What is to be done, Mother ?" asked Professor Henell.

"Thankfully, very little." The Mother coughed, an ugly, wheezing cough ; Liara and the Professor exchanged a glance but said nothing. "I must extend the gratitude of the entire monastery to you, both of you, and all of those who were with you, for defending us."

"It was a group effort," Liara said. _It was my honor…_ "I'm afraid I did very little ; if anything, I started all of this."

"Nonsense," Professor Henell said. "It was Father Adora's fault. Her vision ; her design."

"We were very lucky," said the Mother. "I have talked to some of my… renegade daughters. Had I not decided to exclude you from the monastery after your fight with Sister A'ioa, Father Adora would not have acted when she had ; if she had been given the opportunity to wait, she might have been less rash. Providence made her commit so many mistakes…"

Liara did not see the invisible hand of a benevolent Goddess in six dead people - seven with Father Adora. Nonetheless, she did not say so.

It was true, however. To some extent. They had come terrifyingly close to death and disaster. If, in the original struggle, the detonator had landed on the floor of the refectory on the wrong side, the monastery and the Heart Ruins would have been a pile of cinders - and so would Liara. "Mallene was the true hero," she said. It was the name of the asari with tattoos on her throat. "She risked everything for everyone else - and she paid for her bravery with her life." Her hands still shook in anger at the memory. "She did not have to die." _Not for me._

"The ways of the Goddess are mysterious," said the Mother, "sometimes to the point of ineffability. In any case, we will not forget Mallene and the others. Our order would indeed be defunct without them."

"I don't understand this… conspiracy of tens of thousands of years, however," Professor Henell said. "How could this fabrication remain hidden for so long ?"

The Mother only steepled her fingers, deep in thought. By now, all the surviving nuns had heard what Veracious had to say.

Liara cleared her throat. "I think I can help you with that." She had also spent the previous day sieving through the records of the monastery. "We are missing some elements that keep us from getting the full picture, but the simplified version is this : before the end of their cycle, the Protheans initiated a failsafe project in case they were wiped out by the Reapers. The asari elevation project. They landed here, long before any monastery was ever erected, and they built their central base, our so-called Heart Ruins, from where they 'enlightened' various asari groups as 'Athame.'"

She expected either of the older asari to interrupt her, but Professor Henell merely nodded, and the Mother said nothing.

"When the Reaper invasion began," Liara continued, "the Protheans left Thessia and concealed all evidence of their activities, notably by burying their base into the ground. However, proto-Athamist asari knew how to access the Heart Ruins, where the Protheans had left technology and - most importantly - beacons."

"Did they intend the technology to help us reach the stars ?" the Mother asked.

"I think so," Liara said. "But at the time the proto-Athamists would not have known how to operate the machines that weren't beacons, and so these would not have been of any interest to them. The beacons themselves, however…" She made sure not to look at the Mother. "These yielded secrets. 'Oracles.' It allowed the Athamist civilizations to become the dominant culture in their region of Thessia."

Professor Henell nodded. "Then what happened ?"

The Mother scratched her chin. "Mother Lapiris of Armali founded this monastery, the Monastery of Our Lady of Consideration, atop the Ruins." She looked at Liara. "On purpose ?"

"Yes," said Liara. " She was a prominent Athamist, and I mean, what were the odds that a monastery would be built over Prothean ruins by _accident_ ? I think Lapiris wanted to better protect the Heart Ruins. In any case, centuries passed, and at some point the Pontiff and the other Athamist authorities decided to take the beacons of the Heart Ruins and add them to their hoard under the central Temple of Athame." She remembered it as if it had happened yesterday : the floor of the Temple had broken, and Shepard was hanging on the edge, sure to die if she fell into the chasm… but there, before Liara's very eyes, there were dozens of Prothean beacons, right under the Temple where they had no doubt been accumulated these last few millennia. She shook her head as if to exorcise the memory. "I don't know if, among the beacons of the Heart Ruins, was _the_ Beacon, the Vendetta Beacon, which had been encased inside Athame's statue… What matters, for our purpose, is that the old Athamists ignored the rest of the technology, seeing no use for it, and probably not understanding what it was… and the Pontiff ordered the access tunnel between the Heart Ruins and the monastery sealed."

"Wait, there's something I don't understand," Professor Henell told her. "Why did Veracious think its beacons were still with it ?"

"I don't know," Liara confessed. "It's a VI - an incredibly sophisticated one but still incapable of independent thought. Did its readings malfunction somehow, and told it that the beacons were still in place ? Is it relying on electronic input rather than sight ? Or was it modified by an Athamist technician and, if so, for what purpose ? I do not know," she said again.

"And then ?" the Mother asked.

"Your order forgot all about the Heart Ruins," Liara told her, "that is, until about two thousand eight hundred years ago, when sisters unearthed them by accident when they dug for a well. Then the archaeologists found the garage full of eezo drive cores, they sent those to engineers…" She sighed. "And the rest is history."

The silence lay heavy on their shoulders.

"To think," said the Mother, "that it was all a lie."

"You believe this ?" asked Professor Henell.

"How could I not ? Father Adora did not." The Mother passed her hand over her scalp-crests. "I must do better than her, and accept the truth : the revelation was engineered by the Protheans. This does not disprove the existence of the Goddess, of course ; but we need to address this matter." She sighed. "If you do not have anything more to say, gentleasari, then I must ask that you leave. I have an appointment with paperwork."

The Professor and Liara stood up and bowed, their arms crossed ; but once Professor Henell had left the room, Liara found herself hesitating.

"Mother," she said, "may I have a word ?"

The Mother looked up from her stack of papers. "Of course, my child."

Liara wriggled her hands. "I wanted to tell you… Back in my cell. When… when Father Adora threatened to kill you, if I did not cooperate."

The Mother's face grew dark. "Yes ?"

"It was a bluff," Liara blurted out. "I did not mean… I did not want you to die."

"Right," the Mother said. "Of course."

"What I'm trying to say -"

"Do you know," the Mother interrupted her, "of the philosopher and theologian Anmuantk ?"

"I… No, I can't say I -"

The Mother snorted. "I thought so. Anyway, Anmuantk is famous - among other things - for postulating that, should one be 'asked' to give a false testimony or perform a sin lest her entire family be killed, the moral choice was always to refuse to cooperate, precisely because it was not your responsibility, ultimately, to do evil ; the choice was up to the one with the sword. Or syringe, in that case."

"I…" said Liara. "I…"

"Still, being on the wrong side of the syringe gives you a whole new perspective on that whole dispute, let me tell you that." The Mother rubbed her eyes. "My apologies, but I must ask you to leave me now. I have a lot of work to do ; yesterday happened to be quite eventful. I'm sure you noticed."

"What will you do ?" Liara asked. "What of your order ?"

Surprise appeared on the Mother's face ; perhaps she had not expected Liara to care. "The order will carry on, as it always has. I meant what I said when I, ah, first greeted you : my religion has endured for millennia, and I expect it will go on for quite a while."

Liara was not so sure.

"But we won't ever forget what happened today," the Mother continued. "To think the truth was here, right under our noses, the entire time…" She shook her head. "If you must know, I am about to write a sternly-worded email, demanding that the Holy Tutors explain themselves ; they must have known. They lied to us, to everyone, for generations. They must answer for what they've done. After that, I will look after those who fell today ; and then we will pray, for the living and the dead, known and unknown, for all the galaxies in the universe. We will pray, as we always have."

"What about Father Adora ?"

"Her body will be burned, and her ashes will be placed in the catacombs ; there they will stay, until the death of the sun. What will happen to them afterward, I do not know."

"Really ?" asked Liara, astonished. "After everything she's done ? After what she's done to you ?"

The Mother sneered. "She was one of us, Doctor T'Soni. For better and for worse. She strayed, but she was one of us."

_"Strayed" ?_ thought Liara. But the Mother continued. "She showed little wisdom, had no compassion, and would have done anything in the name of fear and hurt. But more than anything, she did not have enough faith." She sighed. "I should have seen it. I failed her."

Liara could not believe this. "I'm sorry, Mother, but she failed _you_. She failed… She killed… It was her choice."

"There are always attenuating circumstances, Doctor. If we must break the cycle of harm and hurt, we must stop assigning blame and extend our hands to those who do not deserve it."

"Have you… _forgiven_ her ?"

The Mother frowned. "Not yet. Perhaps not ever, not in this life. But with the Goddess's grace I will, once we are reunited in Her hallowed Halls."

"I cannot accept this," Liara said. "When there is no undoing what has been done, there needs to be justice. Why should we ever forgive those who have not even asked for forgiveness ?" 

The Mother smiled wryly. "I suppose it is a question of point of view. Oh well." She glanced at the pile of papers on her desk with distaste, before turning back her eyes to Liara. "It's amazing really. Even when you are at the end of your years, you still need to keep an open mind. You're never done learning."

Liara sharply reciprocated the smile. "On that we can agree."

"Goodbye Doctor T'Soni. Goddess keep you."

"Goodbye, Mother."

As Liara left the office, she thought about the Mother's last words, and about the last words her mother had long ago written, on that journal, while she still retained a part of her free will ; and she searched the entire convent until she found, in the cloister, the one she'd been looking for.

"Professor Henell !" she called.

The Professor had been intensely studying the old fresco Liara had noticed when she'd first been allowed within the walls of the monastery. "Yes, Doctor ?"

"I wanted to say…" Liara paused to regain her breath and, perhaps, to gather her strength. "You were right, and I was wrong about Veracious. It did not have any important secret it would not part with ; it only believed it knew something of value." Another dead end. Another dead hope. "I was wrong. I am sorry."

Professor Henell smiled a bitter smile. "It is always dangerous to believe in things we wish for." She paused, her eyes glazed over by recollection. "I know for a fact that delusion can be alluring… The truth is, we must always be ready to acknowledge the reality of a situation, even if it is a source of despair… or horror." She looked at the crumbling, faceless depiction of Lucen. "We have both failed the truth, I fear. Still ; my particular sins far exceed yours."

"What will you do now ?"

Professor Henell chuckled grimly. "I shall atone. I will scour the Heart Ruins for something new, anything that might keep those, ah, what's the human word ? Those _cuttlefish_ at bay if they ever try to kill everyone ever again. What about you ?"

"The same thing, really," said Liara. "If I hear anything about a new discovery or a new breakthrough, I will be there. If there is any hope we can defeat the Reapers for good… I will work to make that hope real."

"You have never lacked for ambition, have you ?"

Liara blinked, somewhat taken aback. "I only want everything to be as well as they can be."

"And you strive to make it so. It's beyond commendable. Still, we'll have to see, in time, what the future holds for us all." She crossed her arms, to show her respect. "Farewell, Doctor T'Soni."

"Liara."

"Liara," Professor Henell repeated. She smiled ; for an instant she did not look haunted. "Take care of yourself, Liara. I do not envy your burden, but I would not trust it to anyone else."

* * *

While she was in the shuttle taking her back home, her father called her.

"I hear _someone_ 's been messing around with nuns. Not the way I'd like it, though."

Liara couldn't help but smile. "Hi Dad."

Aethyta looked the same as ever. "How are you holding up, kid ?"

Liara thought for a moment, struggling with what she wanted to say. "I already knew I was hated," she admitted at last. "I knew people would be… irritated by what I've said."

" _'Irritated'_ ?" Aethyta scoffed. "That's one way of saying you piss people off. Do you intend on stopping ?"

"I'm certainly going to be more careful," Liara told her, hoping she would not, in fact, plunge into total paranoia. "But no, I'm not going to stop."

Aethyta grunted. "I can't blame you for trying to change things - mostly because at your age you're responsible for what you do, and I ain't going to look stupid for scolding you. You wouldn't even listen to me anyway."

"But ?" said Liara.

"But," Aethyta said, "if you don't get more people to see things your way, you'll end up like me."

Liara smirked. "Funny, likable, and amazingly unconcerned by what people think of me ?"

"Don't bullshit me, Liara."

"Dad, you've never had more influence than these last few years."

"And who's to say that'll stay that way ? What I'm saying is," and Aethyta's gaze turned hard and sharp, seemingly boring into Liara's head, "you might be a Big Hero, but you'd be amazed at how people are eager to not see and hear what might make them think differently. You'll be put aside. Or worse."

"I _know_ that, Dad," Liara said ; she had the feeling they'd already had that conversation many, many times. "I'm careful, I cultivate my image myself to not let others decide how I'm perceived. But I'd be a fool if I wanted everyone in the galaxy to like me and agree with me."

"That's not what I'm saying. But that's beside the point," Aethyta said. "I asked you how you were."

Even though they were, when it came down to it, almost strangers to one another, Aethyta had the uncanny ability of seeing all of Liara's feints for what they really were and to cut through her lies and omissions. It was at times extremely unnerving ; it was also refreshing. "I…" Liara began. "I…" She swallowed. "There are so many dead because of me, Dad. There was this one maiden, Mallene… She saved me. She willingly took a Warp meant for me and she died."

"How about you tell me everything, starting from the beginning ?" Aethyta said. "I only heard what the newsies shit out of their asses and call the whole truth."

So Liara told her. She spoke of the journalist, of the Mother, of Professor Henell, Audwin, Lieutenant P'lina, of Sister A'ioa, of Treeya, of Father Adora, of Veracious… She did not weep, because it seemed so unreal ; or perhaps she had indeed grown numb. She revealed every feeling, every doubt, every secret thought she'd had in the last three days. Aethyta listened without speaking, and in her dark brown eyes Liara saw no judgement and no pity, which would have been worse. "I'm so tired," she confessed at last.

"No shit."

"But more than anything," Liara continued, "I'm furious."

"More than usual, you mean ?"

"I wish… I'm angry at myself. I should have known -"

Aethyta couldn't keep the scowl off her face. "Alright, cut the crap right there," she said. "You can't be prepared for everything, kid. You can't know everything. All you can do is expect the worst and try your damned hardest ; but you have to let go at some point."

"I know that, Dad, but -"

"It doesn't show, then."

"Dad !"

"Liara, it's this Adora person who got it in her head that she couldn't stomach what you said and chose to put an end to it, damn the body count. _She_ killed those people, whether she pulled the trigger herself or not."

"So I have no responsibility whatsoever for those deaths ?"

"You can't live life and never hurt anyone. I'm sorry," Aethyta said as she saw Liara open her mouth, "but it's true. What you _can_ do is do your best not to, and Adora was the one with the detonator."

"But Adora did not… She killed but… It's still my fault."

"How so ?"

"Mallene…" Liara said. Just speaking her name brought about a bloody vision to her mind : Mallene, blood from her nose and mouth streaming down her throat, her belly turned into shredded meat. "Mallene died for me. She said, 'It was my honor'. She would have rather died, knowing that I still lived, than live and let me die. I know she is not the only one like that ; I can plainly read their adoration on their faces… It scares me. They have such _faith_ in me…" _But it's what I want, don't I ?_ she thought. _I need their faith do what must be done._ "They see in me some kind of hero or of leader, someone they can follow, while I know…" She breathed out loudly. "I'm not all-knowing. I'm not perfect. Dad, I… I don't even think I'm a good person."

"You want me to reassure you ?" Aethyta asked simply. "To tell ya you are, in fact, worthy dying for ?"

"I don't want you to _lie_ …"

"Yes, yes, you'd like to hear you really _are_ infallible. So does everyone else." Aethyta clicked her tongue. "'fraid I can't tell you. Nobody can ; not even you."

Liara's spirits sank as her worst fears were confirmed. "Then Mallene's sacrifice was pointless, wasn't it ?"

"Why ? Clearly, it's the way _she_ wanted to go. I mean, she would have rather not died, of course, but it was her choice in the end. From her point of view her death was anything _but_ pointless."

"But objectively -"

"There's no such thing as 'objectively' when it comes to what people do, kiddo," Aethyta interrupted her. "Life ain't black or white - it's shades of grey, and plenty of other colors to, some of which you can't even see."

"That's very poetic," Liara told her, "but I don't understand what you're trying to say."

Aethyta shook her head and sighed. "Life's a fight. You assess the situation, act accordingly, if you're lucky you don't get your ass handed to you. Same goes for everyone. If," she said, "you think this Mallene's sacrifice was pointless, if you think she didn't fight the way she could've, then it's up to you to prove her right."

"Oh," said Liara. "You mean I should do my utmost… to become someone worthy of her."

"Pretty much, yeah," said Aethyta, "if her dying for you keeps you up at night. Whatever helps you cope. I mean, as long you don't forget it can go tits up at any moment."

Liara looked back into her father's earnest eyes. Suddenly there were a thousand things she wanted to tell her, but she didn't know how Aethyta would react to these. Liara didn't have that strength. Instead, she said, "How do you deal with it ?"

"Deal with what, Liara ?"

"Knowing that you can never be completely in control. Knowing that whatever you do, there will be unintended harmful consequences."

Aethyta shrugged. "Mostly ? Fighting and fucking."

" _Dad…_ "

Liara's father raised a bottle of Noverian rum at the screen. "Also booze. Booze helps."

"Dad, what time is it where you are ?"

"Early enough," Aethyta said, and she gulped down most of the contents of the bottle. "Listen, I think I'm done where I'm stationed. How about I come spend some time with you ?"

"Do you think it's wise ?"

"I don't care if it's wise, I want to see you. Not in a screen, I mean. That'll change ya from spending time only with your devoted tiamnas and your devoted acolyte and that fossil scuttling in your basement." The fossil was Javik. "How about it ?"

Liara felt herself beaming. "It would be lovely to see you in person."

"Great ! See you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow ?"

"No time like the present, kiddo." Then the smirk Aethyta affected faded a little. "You going to be okay ?"

"Yes," Liara said. "I've got plenty to do back home. Plenty of sleep to catch up with most of all."

"Glad to hear you might be taking care of yourself." Aethyta eyed the bottle still in her hand. "See you tomorrow," she said again.

"Bye, Dad," Liara said. And when the screen had turned black, she added, "Thank you."

* * *

Once she was past the throng of journalists, there was no one waiting for her in the newly rebuilt phalanstery she called home. She was relieved. She sent Treeya and her tiamnas away ; they too deserved some rest after the events of the last few days.

She entered her apartments.

The main room was almost austere, containing nearly nothing but a table, chairs, a guest bed and, most importantly, the pink dome of the sleeping pod against the wall to her right - but no rugs or pictures or tapestries, no decoration whatsoever, not even paint on the walls ; and yet she felt welcome.

She let herself slump against her front door, and sighed. She'd spent most of the trip back home deep in thought, ruminating, planning ahead, and she needed this - to savor how, at last, she would be left well enough alone. She allowed five minutes to pleasantly elapse as she sat on the floor, thinking of nothing, and then she got up. There was work to be done.

Her hands were still shaking with anger. It was getting worse, now that she was alone, though you never knew who might be watching.

"Good evening Doctor T'Soni," said Glyph when she climbed up to her office, on the second level. "Did you have a pleasant day ?"

The sight of the drone and the sound of the familiar voice also felt like home, perhaps more than anything else. "Yes, Glyph," she told it, trying not to think about the dead. Weariness crept in her voice. "Better than the days that came before."

"I am glad to hear it," Glyph said. "You have not checked your correspondence in a few days. I'm afraid that your inbox contains what you have programmed me to qualify as 'an ungodly amount'."

Liara winced at the indirect mention of goddesses. "Anything requiring my immediate attention ?"

"I have not flagged anything urgent, no."

"Perfect, then."

"I must remind you," Glyph continued, "to make an appointment with various medical practitioners in order to maintain your physical health."

"Later, Glyph."

"You have said this the last seventeen times. Per your own request, I must insist you make these appointments."

"No."

"Very well. I will remind you again, one standard galactic month from now."

"Thank you," Liara said. "You're a treasure."

"I do my best." Glyph whirled and vanished, leaving Liara alone.

_What now ?_ she thought. She was too tired to work, she realized now, and far too angry to focus on anything.

Anything but…

She didn't hesitate for long. She climbed down the stairs, only to find Javik hunched over their store of MREs. "How was your day ?" she called.

He grunted. "I do not wish to talk about it at the moment." A few years before, had he not wanted to talk he would have merely snarled, or insulted her.

"I will not pry," she told him.

Javik tilted his head. "In any way ?"

"No. You will tell me when you want to."

He nodded. "How was your day ?"

"Let's speak of our respective days tomorrow, shall we ? If you want."

"Understood." He ambled back to the basement. "I intend to stay in my quarters until dawn," he declared.

"Perfect." She angled her chin toward the great pink pod. "I was going to sleep."

Javik sniffed. "Sleep," he repeated as he opened the basement door. "How primitive."

As soon as he had closed the door, Liara pressed the button of the hermetic pink pod, which opened like a shell, and she curled up inside. She breathed as at last all the stress, the pressure, the anxieties and the pain of the past three days seemed to evaporate off her body. She was not, in fact, tired enough to sleep - but her mind drifted nonetheless into a different state of consciousness.

She opened her eyes in a white void, perfectly lucid.

"Welcome Doctor T'Soni," said the true Glyph. "Did you have a pleasant day ?"

"Not now, Glyph," Liara told it as she walked forward in the featureless expanse ; with every step, the void grew darker, and at last, when her surroundings had turned as black as night, she turned around to face the perfect image of the Milky Way galaxy.

Now she was where she belonged.

"I have several reports prepared for you," Glyph told her, "including one for your investments and another for your current operations."

"Not now," she said again. In the void, released at last from the scrutiny and expectations of others, she gave free rein to her rage, which manifested here, as in the real world, as a harsh biotic glow. "I need a few things first."

"I'm listening, Doctor T'Soni."

Liara reached for the galaxy. With a single finger, she touched the heart of the Athena Nebula, which grew and unfolded around her ; then, after she had found Thessia, the flawless representation of her homeworld filled the space before her, swelling until it was larger than Glyph. She spun the world as it was a real globe, until she found what she had been looking for : a seemingly insignificant spot in her native hemisphere, high in the mountains.

"First," she began, "I need a copy of the email the Mother of the monastery of Our Lady of Consideration sent today to the council of the Holy Tutors of the Athame Doctrine." Right now, the convent was shrouded by a great bank of clouds, but nonetheless its location was highlighted by red tabs and tags linking it to the rest of the universe. "Order our agent in the palace to record the Tutors' next few reunions. Then," she continued, "I need you to analyze the emails and messages of Father Adora, from the same monastery, on the off chance that anyone else was involved in her crimes." As the clouds stubbornly concealing the monastery from her gaze drifted slowly, their surface began to gleam with blue light as the glare Liara cast grew stronger. "Then I need to find which members of the administration before the War were aware of the true secret of the Heart Ruins."

"Are you making a new book, Doctor T'Soni ?"

"I don't know." Inside her, her inescapable, implacable wrath rolled, drowning out for now all other considerations. She would not let it control her, but she would not pretend either that nothing had happened. The dead demanded justice. "It depends on what they choose to do"

"'They' ?"

"The government. The Holy Tutors. Everyone else. We'll see what choice they leave us ; whether they'll keep on lying." With a sweeping gesture, she turned the planet - her planet - on its axis and focused on Serrice, where she and the machine powering this virtual reality were located.

After the War, once her network had begun to reinstate itself, she had had to choose between leading a public life on digs and universities - and in the occasional interview - and doing what needed to be done. She had created a third choice. Acquiring this technology had been hard and tedious, but it had been worth it : now, whenever her body recuperated in the "sleeping pod", her mind accessed all the secrets of the galaxy in this virtual reality, running 360 times faster than the physical universe. In a few hours she could spend over a month of subjective time poring over everything her enemies, the adversaries of peace and cooperation, tried to conceal from her. 

In truth, with that stroke, she had unconditionally surpassed the old Shadow Broker.

The sky was clear above Serrice, she realized as she looked, unimpeded, at the roof of her phalanstery. She had not even noticed how beautiful the day must have been when she had come home.

She sighed. Her anger cooled, sated for now, but the weight of her steel resolve remained. "Any news from Feron ?" she asked Glyph. "Has new intelligence come his way ?" Feron was responsible for the trade of secrets, which he performed impartially ; it made everyone believe that the Shadow Broker played no favorites, and so people confided in him - and her - without hesitation.

"None, Doctor T'Soni. There has been no great discovery in your absence."

"What has happened while I was gone ?"

"Many things. Besides the trouble on Omega, our models show that the prospect of a war in the Eagle Nebula is getting likelier…" As Glyph droned on, and though she never entirely ceased to pay attention to it, Liara found herself drifting away ; her mind was haunted by Mallene, by how she had looked at her.

"In the Interstellar Batarian League, our spies report that the Hegemony Faithful may be planning an attack soon in Ujon…" What would remain of Mallene in Liara's mind a decan, a month, a year from now ? She was already fading ; Liara did not want to forget, but in truth, for her Mallene only amounted to the brief but bright choices that had led to her death. Aethyta was right : it was up to Liara to make this sacrifice mean _something_.

"Some dalatrasses of the Salarian Union have been contacting high-ranking turian military officers who are unhappy with the Citadel system of 'parity'…" In the end, this death was a reminder of failure. Liara could not make any more mistakes, not one, not with so many lives at stake.

She would not.

She'd make sure of it. 

"A talk by a prominent Reaper worshipper has turned violent on Kahje…"

"Enough," said Liara.

It was, as ever, disappointing to know just how many were eager to gain power over the weak, the helpless and the dispossessed, how many would have thrown the galaxy back into a state of injustice gilded with lies as long as it benefitted them.

At least now they were being watched ; now, an invisible hand would always thwart their plans with a subtle touch. "Has there been any change in the behavior of the Reapers ?"

"No, Doctor T'Soni."

"Alright." With a brush of her finger, Thessia receded, disappearing amidst the light of hundreds of billions of stars. Liara looked at the galaxy, spreading in front of her, shining softly in the darkness of the void.

From so far above, the Milky Way looked like it was meant to be : a coherent whole, complex yet united. From this vantage point, there were no divisions, no rivalries, no petty conflicts. _We will be better._

It would take time, but time was on her side, as long as Shepard could keep the Reapers in check. For now they remained ; but Liara grew stronger with every passing day. 

She would bring Shepard, the Shepard she had known, back to life. She would see the Reapers destroyed. She would turn the galaxy into a place of peace, prosperity, justice and wisdom.

It was in her power to do so, and so, it was her duty.

_Consideration. Compassion. Humility._

"To work," she told Glyph. "We have to win. We have to win, no matter what."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, a series of disclaimers : I don't think the religious persons depicted in this story are representative of religious people in general, nor is the way I choose to depict Liara representative of scientists everywhere. Liara's views on religion are not my own ; these will be visible in Chapter 4.
> 
> I debated long and hard over whether I should go on with this ambivalent vision of Liara. In the end, what I like about her is that she is a grey, complex character, and so I tried to do that. Keep in mind that this is only how I envision Liara's character might change, 4 years after ME3, in the series of circumstances leading to the fic. This is not canon!Liara, more of an extrapolation.
> 
> In Liara's defense (and mine), it was extremely difficult to determine what is the best possible attitude to the situation of the Athame Doctrine post-Beacon reveal, simply because it is unheard of : there is no proof that a major Earth religion was fabricated by imperialist aliens, or, despite what some foul people may argue, that one of the great religious revelations is a lie. I tend to think that whatever option I ended up choosing for Liara would have been unsatisfying for the audience and myself to some degree, and so I blended Liara's opinions, making them part rational part irrational.
> 
> Of course, you may wonder why I chose to inflict this to myself, when I could have made Liara simply indifferent to the Athame Doctrine and still have her get caught up in the unintended results of what she said in her book. The thing is, I think that on the one hand this would have not fitted with the theme of the story (which I hope is rather obvious), and on the other hand, strangely enough, it would not have meshed well with one of Liara's prime motivations in canon, which is anger. I mean, it seems to me that a lot of what Liara does is driven by her anger - so I made her angry, exhausted by four years and how she feels she has accomplished nothing in this time.
> 
> Onto trivial notes :
> 
> The notion that asari pureblood are more prone to delinquency and drug abuse is lifted straight off some banter between two asari in Nos Astra in ME2. Likewise, the idea that some asari did not even know that Ardat-Yakshi were real is taken from the couple of missions related to Morinth in ME2.
> 
> Aethyta's opinion on Prothean beacons, which Liara mentions, and the idea of Liara having tiamnas come from DrJekyl's magnificent fic, [That Which Was Lost](https://archiveofourown.org/works/496401/chapters/869441). It is beyond excellent ; I aspire to one day write as well as she does (even though my fic shows there's a lot of work to be done). I am sure there are other elements from That Which Was Lost that have made it here, though I may be unconscious of them at the moment.
> 
> I completely made up the Athamist monastic order, but Professor Henell is actually mentioned in passing in ME3 as someone Liara worked with and was deeply admiring of back in 2171.
> 
> My having art restorers say that "all restoration is destructive" is actually based on the belief of a friend who is an actual art restorer ; I don't know if this opinion is widespread, but I thought it'd be fun to make it mainstream.
> 
> By my reckoning, the time of the year on Thessia should be correct and canon-compliant. The calendar is completely my own bullshit however.
> 
> The story of how A'ioa began to believe in Athame is based on Paul Claudel's own conversion. 
> 
> The idea of Liara poking Javik's eye comes from [here](https://bbwind.tumblr.com/post/135639010382/few-tsovik-and-some-of-them-are-kinda-nsfw-so-i). I should probably say that while I like the idea of T'sovik in the abstract, I also think that, as of ME3, both characters must change a lot in order to have a healthy relationship.
> 
> Liara reading and enjoying Jane Austen is of course inspired by [this beauty](https://cdna.artstation.com/p/assets/images/images/012/578/316/large/matt-rhodes-liara.jpg?1535482975) by Matt Rhodes.
> 
> There's a Steven Universe quote hidden somewhere, I wonder if you'll see it ?
> 
> An anti-biotic (ha) "mental inhibitor" is glimpsed in Issue #3 of the comic Mass Effect : Invasion.
> 
> The phrase "For a certain definition of 'okay'" is shamelessly lifted off the last arc of the comic book series The Wicked and the Divine.
> 
> Finally, I wonder if you might guess on what obscure piece of canon trivia I based Liara's personal Shadow Broker VR space ? Hint : it's in Cerberus Daily News.
> 
> Thank you for reading. This was exhausting to do, and I'm not entirely satisfied with it, but I wanted the story to be out there.


End file.
